The
Jack Presbyters and the rest of the sectaries have got it all their
own way."
"Dr. Eales said I had no right to give it to Master Woodley, or any
that was not the right sort."
"So why should you go on keeping it there rotting for nothing, when
it might just hinder us from wearing our very lives out while you are
plodding and saving?"
Stead stood stock still, as her meaning dawned on him, "Child, you
know not what you say," at last he uttered.
"Ah well, you are slow to take things in; but you'll do it at last."
"I am slow to take in this," said Stead. "Would you have me rob
God?"
"No, only the owls and the bats," said Emlyn. "If they are the
better for the silver and gold under them! What good can it do to
let it lie there and rot?"
"Gold rots not!" growled Stead.
"Tarnishes, spoils then!" said Emlyn pettishly. "Come, what good
is't to any mortal soul there?"
'It is none of mine."
"Not after seven years? Come, look you now, Stead, 'tis not only
being tired of service and sharp words, and nips and blows, but I
don't like being mocked for having a clown and a lubber for my
sweetheart.
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