"She ain't a fool," said Mr. Burton, gloomily.
He finished his breakfast in silence, and, leaving the repentant Mr. Stiles sitting in the doorway with a pipe, went down to the widow's to make the best explanation he could think of on the way. Mrs. Dutton's fresh-coloured face changed as he entered the shop, and her still good eyes regarded him with scornful interrogation.
"I—saw you last night," began Mr. Burton, timidly.
"I saw you, too," said Mrs. Dutton. "I couldn't believe my eyesight at first."
"It was an old shipmate of mine," said Mr. Burton. "He hadn't seen me for years, and I suppose the sight of me upset 'im."
"I dare say," replied the widow; "that and the Cock and Flowerpot, too. I heard about it."
"He would go," said the unfortunate.
"You needn't have gone," was the reply.
"I 'ad to," said Mr. Burton, with a gulp; "he—he's an old officer o' mine, and it wouldn't ha' been discipline for me to refuse."
"Officer?" repeated Mrs. Dutton.