The sailor kissed her, looked at her sternly for a few moments, and pointing to the infant, said, ‘You mean the father of this?’
‘Yes, my husband,’ said Edith.
‘I hope so,’ he answered.
‘Why, Roger, I’m married—of a truth am I!’ she cried.
‘Shame upon ’ee, if true! If not true, worse. Master Stocker was an honest man, and ye should have respected his memory longer. Where is thy husband?’
‘He comes often. I thought it was he now. Our marriage has to be kept secret for a while—it was done privily for certain reasons; but we was married at church like honest folk—afore God we were, Roger, six months after poor Stocker’s death.’
‘’Twas too soon,’ said Roger.
‘I was living in a house alone; I had nowhere to go to. You were far over sea in the New Found Land, and John took me and brought me here.’
‘How often doth he come?’ says Roger again.
‘Once or twice weekly,’ says she.