"Not a bit. And if you'll come up here, Jim and I will promise not to be in the way. Your mother said we were never in the way. And I'll serve your meals in front of the sitting-room fire. They used to have theirs out of doors. But you'll be just as much alone, with me and Jim eating in the kitchen."
It was very easy after that to tell Mrs. Connolly all about it. About Derry, and how he had fallen in love with her when he had thought she was just the girl in the Toy Shop. But there were things which she did not tell, of the shabby old gentleman and of the shadow which had darkened Derry's life.
Then when she had finished, Mary Connolly asked the thing which everybody asked—"Why isn't he fighting?"
Jean flushed. "He—he made a promise to his mother."
"I'd never make my boys promise a thing like that. And if I did, I'd hope they'd break it."
"Break it?" tensely.
"Of course. Their honor's bigger than anything I could ever ask them. And they know it."
"Then you think that Derry ought to break his promise?"
"I do, indeed, my dear."
"But—. Oh, Mrs. Connolly, I don't know whether I want him to break it."