John stood looking down, ruefully.

Suddenly the figure in the bed turned.

'John,' said a comparatively strong voice which made Bolderfield start,
'John--Muster Drew says you'd oughter put it in the bank. You'll be a
fool if yer don't, 'ee says.'

The old woman's pinched face emerged from the sheets, looking up at him.
Bluish patches showed here and there on the drawn white skin; there was
a great change since the morning, but the eyes were still alive.

John was silent a moment, one corner of his mouth twitching, as though
what she had said struck him in a humorous light.

'Well, I don't know as I mind much what 'ee says, 'Liza!'

'Sit down.'

She made a movement with her emaciated hand. John sat down on the chair
Louisa gave up to him, and bent down over the bed.

'If yer woan't do--what Muster Drew says, John--whatever _wull_ yer do
with it?'

She spoke slowly, but clearly. John scratched his head. His complexion
had evidently been very fair. It was still fresh and pink, and the full
cheek hung a little over the jaw. The mouth was shrewd, but its
expression was oddly contradicted by the eyes, which had on the whole a
childish, weak look.