He listened, his face lying on his arms. It was true, all true. She
might have taken more and Timothy less; no doubt she was making it out
as bad as she could for Timothy. But it lay between them--his wife and
his son--it lay between them.

'An I 'eard yer comin,' she ended; 'an I thought I'd tell yer--an I wor
frightened about the 'arf-crowns--people 'ad been talkin so at
Dawson's--an I didn't see no way out--an--an--'

She ceased, her hand plucking again at the comforter, her throat
working.

He, too, thought of the loving words he had said to her, and the memory
of them only made his misery the more fierce.

'An there ain't no way out,' he said violently, raising his head.
'Yer'll be took before the magistrates next week, an the assizes ull be
in February, an yer'll get six months--if yer don't get more.'

She got up from her chair as though physically goaded by the words.

'I'll not go to gaol,' she said, under her breath. 'I'll not--'

A sound of scorn broke from Isaac.

'You should ha thought o' that,' he said. 'Yo should ha thought o' that.
An what you've been sayin about Timothy don't make it a 'aporth the
better--not for _you_! Yo led _'im_ into it too--if it 'adn't been for
yo, 'ee'd never ha' _seen_ the cursed stuff. Yo've dragged 'im down
worse nor 'ee were--an yerself--an the childer--an me. An the drink, an