"What does he look like?" said William excitedly.
"Don't talk with your mouth full," said Ethel.
"Don't listen to their nonsense, dear," said Mrs. Brown.
But William was afire. Here was someone to be reformed at his very doors—no mere ordinary trivial wrong-doer, but a murderer, a criminal, the real thing. He was longing to begin. He could hardly wait till he had finished his bread and butter.
"May I go, mother?" he said hastily, swallowing a quarter of a slice of bread as he spoke.
"You've had no cake, dear," said his mother in surprise.
William gave a look of set purposeful determination.
"I don't want cake to-day," he said in the voice of one who scornfully waves aside some trifle unworthy of him. With that he strode frowning from the room.
"I do hope he's not ill," said Mrs. Brown uneasily. "He's been awfully quiet to-day."
"He's given us the first peaceful Sunday we've had for years," said Ethel.