“You’re going,” said she, “of course. It’s no use hoping you won’t. Here’s two pounds you’re owed—and—”
Jeffreys took the money, and kept her hand for a moment in his.
“You are kind,” said he hoarsely. “Good-bye, Mrs Trimble.”
He kissed her hand and took up his bundle.
At the foot of the stairs a boy’s hand was laid on his arm.
“Oh, Jeff,” whispered Teddy—he had stolen out of the schoolroom. “Poor Jeff! I know you aren’t wicked. Say good-bye, Jeff. What shall we do? What shall we do?”
“Good-bye, little chap,” said Jeffreys, stooping down and kissing the boy’s wet cheek.
“But, Jeff, where are you going? When will you—?”
Jeffreys was gone.
In the schoolroom meanwhile the inevitable reaction had taken place.