"
"Well, I don't go to bed in my boots, do I, Mrs. Trapes? But then I
promised you I wouldn't, and, for another thing, I'm not a poet, you
see," said he and yawned lazily.
"Hermy says she's glad too."
Mr. Ravenslee cut short his yawn in the middle.
"Hermione? Did she say so? When?"
"Ah, I guessed that would wake ye up a bit!" said Mrs. Trapes, noting
his suddenly eager look. "It's a pity you're so poor, ain't it?"
"Why? What do you mean?"
"I mean if you had been in a good situation an' making good
money--twenty-five per, say--you might have asked her."
"Asked her?" repeated Ravenslee, staring, "asked her what?"
"Why, t' marry you, o' course," nodded Mrs. Trapes. "You love her about
as much as any man can love--which is sometimes a thimbleful an'
sometimes a bit more--but you sure love her as much as a man knows how,
I guess. An' don't try for ter deny it, Mr. Geoffrey, I ain't blind,
leastways I can see a bit out o' one eye sometimes--specially where
Hermy's concerned, I can so. Of course, you ain't worthy of her--but
then no man is, to my mind!"
"No, I'm not worthy of her, God knows!" said Ravenslee, quite humbly.
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