"He insulted my—my mother."
"Your mother?"
"She—she's dead," said Stover in a stage voice he remembered.
At this Jimmy and Mr. Hopkins stopped, genuinely perplexed, and looked hard at Stover.
"You don't mean it! Dear me," said The Roman, hesitating before a possible blunder.
"It was long ago," said Stover, thrilling with the delight of authorship. "She died in a ship-wreck to save me."
The Roman was nonplussed. There was always the possibility that the story might be true.
"Ah, she gave her life to save yours, eh?" he said encouragingly.
"Held my head above water, breeches buoy and all that sort of thing," said Stover, remembering something in Dickens. "I was the only one saved, me and the ship's cat."
"Well, well," said The Roman, with a return of confidence; "and your father—is he alive?"