"Ho! Been bottling things up, have you?" She nodded. "Then you uncork yourself, old dear! But, before you begin, I’ll try to impress this on your female mind. This dirty dog of a James Miggott is threatening me and Tom. He believes that he can injure our reputations in the trade. See? Tom, here, thinks that he’ll do it, if I refuse to surrender. Well, I don’t. That’s where he and me differ. But, just as sure as the Lord made little apples and small, mean souls, it’s the solid truth that this young man is tryin’ to blackmail me! Now you have the text, dearie. Get you up and preach a sermon on it. Posy, in her Sunday clothes, will listen, and so will I. But bear in mind that you took me for better or worse." Tomlin added unctuously: "And please remember, ma’am, that you have to consider me." Susan eyed Tomlin with chill indifference. Her voice was almost vitriolic, as she remarked: "If I’m driven from house and home, Mr. Tomlin, ’tain’t likely I shall waste much time considering you!" "Who’s driving you, ma’am, from house and home?" "My husband is, more shame to him!" She collected her energies for a supreme effort, turning in her chair to look at the tyrant. "Blaze away!" said the tyrant. "Joe"—her voice trembled in spite of a gallant effort to control it—"you are forcing me to do the cruellest thing in all the world—to choose between my own child and you. I ain’t got your brains, but I’ve something much better—a heart. Posy wants me, and you don’t. Let me finish. It’s bitter aloes to me, but I swallow the gall of it for my dear child’s sake. You used to love me!" "Used?" "Between you and me, that’s over and done with." She spoke very mournfully, brushing a tear from her cheek. "No, it ain’t, Susie. Seemin’ly, what I’ve done to show my love for you ain’t enough. S’pose you tell me what more I might do?" She answered swiftly: "Give your consent to Posy marrying, as I did—marrying the man of her choice. Have you anything against his moral character?" "He’s a wrong ’un; take that from me!" "Not without proof. What’s he done that’s wrong? He don’t muddle his wits with food and drink. He don’t use filthy tobacco. He attends Divine Service." "Ho! Poor in this world’s goods, but a moral millionaire, hey?" "It’s hateful to hear you sneer at him!" "You ask me to give my daughter to a dog that’s trying to bite the hand that fed him?" "Posy might do worse," said Tomlin hoarsely. "Now you’ve torn it!" said Quinney viciously. "I’m alone against the lot of you. Good! I’ll down the lot of you, I’ll——" Posy interrupted: "Father!" "Well, my girl?" She spoke incisively, with something of his manner: "You won’t answer one important question. What is James threatening to do to you and Mr. Tomlin?"