The town was dark; the tram tipped in
its haste. He sat with her hand fast in his.
"Will your mother be gone to bed?" he asked.
"She may be. I hope not."
They hurried along the silent, dark little street, the only people out
of doors. Clara quickly entered the house. He hesitated.
He leaped up the step and was in the room. Her mother appeared in the
inner doorway, large and hostile.
"Who have you got there?" she asked.
"It's Mr. Morel; he has missed his train. I thought we might put him up
for the night, and save him a ten-mile walk."
"H'm," exclaimed Mrs. Radford. "That's your lookout! If you've invited
him, he's very welcome as far as I'm concerned. YOU keep the house!"
"If you don't like me, I'll go away again," he said.
"Nay, nay, you needn't! Come along in! I dunno what you'll think of the
supper I'd got her."
It was a little dish of chip potatoes and a piece of bacon. The table
was roughly laid for one.
"You can have some more bacon," continued Mrs. Radford. "More chips you
can't have.
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