“What’r yer lookin’ at, three hap’orth o’ pap?” he snarled.
The boy shrugged his shoulders slightly.
“Why yer — !” shouted Dawes.
“Leave him alone,” said Mr. Pappleworth, in that insinuating voice which means, “He’s only one of your good little sops who can’t help it.”
Since that time the boy used to look at the man every time he came through with the same curious criticism, glancing away before he met the smith’s eye. It made Dawes furious. They hated each other in silence.
