'You've been having yours ears warmed, they tell me,' said Mrs. Goodall
grimly.
'Who telled thee?' asked Harry shortly.
'Maggie and Luke's both been in.'
'You look well, don't you!' said interfering Jinny.
Harry went and hung his hat up, without replying.
'Come upstairs and take your hat off,' said Mrs. Goodall to Fanny, almost
kindly. It would have annoyed her very much if Fanny had dropped her son
at this moment.
'What's 'er say, then?' asked the father secretly of Harry, jerking his
head in the direction of the stairs whence Fanny had disappeared.
'Nowt yet,' said Harry.
'Serve you right if she chucks you now,' said Jinny. 'I'll bet it's right
about Annie Nixon an' you.'
'Tha bets so much,' said Harry.
'Yi--but you can't deny it,' said Jinny.
'I can if I've a mind.'
His father looked at him inquiringly.
'It's no more mine than it is Bill Bower's, or Ted Slaney's, or six or
seven on 'em,' said Harry to his father.
And the father nodded silently.
'That'll not get you out of it, in court,' said Jinny.
Upstairs Fanny evaded all the thrusts made by his mother, and did not
declare her hand. She tidied her hair, washed her hands, and put the
tiniest bit of powder on her face, for coolness, there in front of Mrs.
Goodall's indignant gaze. It was like a declaration of independence. But
the old woman said nothing.
They came down to Sunday tea, with sardines and tinned salmon and tinned
peaches, besides tarts and cakes.
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