Two hours later, Mary opened again the door of the Wold Farm. The house was in confusion. Violet came to greet her with quivering lips.
"Oh, m'm," she cried, "do come, Mr. Robson's had a stroke."
Chapter XV
BEFORE THE HARVEST
"Good evening, Bert. What is it you've come to see me about?"
Mary stood in the dining-room smiling at the embarrassed figure of Bert Armstrong, who waited, shuffling his feet along the carpet.
"Have you seen that chap Hunting, Mrs. Robson?" he asked. He hated having to come to her like this—and her having such trouble with her husband an' all.
"Yes, I have, and I'm glad you came to see me about that. Won't you sit down, and smoke if you like. I wanted a talk with you."
Bert looked round, seeking the least committal seat in the room. They all looked too large or too small. Finally he chose John's arm-chair and crouched there miserably, trying to find somewhere to put his hands and his knees.