"My lord, I couldn’t face Pinker, and Mrs. Biddlecombe would cackle and nag at me till I wrung her neck. She wrote to Susan to say that she was sorry to hear that the Lord had seen fit to afflict me grievously. In her heart she’s glad." "You don’t blame the Lord?" "I blame myself. I’ve been a silly daw, strutting about like a peacock. I wanted a fight, and I’ve had it; but I can’t go back to Melchester. I must stick it out here, win or lose, customers or no customers. If the worst comes to the worst, I can sell to dealers. It means slavery." "But you have some customers?" "Very few—the wrong sort. Mostly women, who don’t value their own time or mine. They look at my stuff, and call it ’rather nice’; they try to pick up a few wrinkles about glass and porcelain, and then they drift out, promising to call again." "We must try to alter this." "It does me good to see your lordship’s face again." Lord Mel bought a table and some Irish glass. He shook Quinney’s hand at parting genially. "You’ve had a dose. Perhaps your system needed it. Pay my respects to Mrs. Quinney, and tell her not to worry." Quinney ran upstairs to Susan. "Lord Mel’s been in. Sent his respects to you. You’re not to worry—see?" "I am not worrying much, Joe. Nobody escapes hard times." "His lordship has faith in me. He ain’t offended. Just the same as ever. I told him everything—more than I told you." "More than you told me?" "I lost a few hundreds dabbling in mines. All that foolishness is over and done with. I mean to stick to what I know, and the people I know who’ll stick to me. I shall give my undivided attention to business. I mean to work harder than ever, so as to win back what I’ve lost." "How much have you lost, dear?" "I’m not speakin’ of money, Susie. I’ve lost my self-respect, and I don’t stand with you just where I did." "You do—you know you do!" He shook his head obstinately. "I know I don’t. You ain’t suffering from a crick in the neck along of lookin’ up at me. I ain’t been soaring lately. Wriggling like a crushed worm about fits me." "Joe, dear, you’ve never quite understood me." "Hey?" "I married you for better or worse." He stared at her amazedly. "Lawsy! It never entered into your pretty head that it could be for worse?" "I should love you just the same if it were." "No, no, that ain’t sense, Susie. It won’t wash. You loved me because I was Joe Quinney—a feller with ambitions, a worker, a man with brains in his head. If I failed you, I should expect you to despise me. I should feel that I’d had you under false pretences." Susan smiled very faintly. Her voice was curiously incisive: "You have a lot to learn yet, Joe, about persons." *CHAPTER XII* *POSY* *I*