"What do you mean?"
She pointed to the window!
Tommy was in his night-shirt, with the white rat running over his
shoulders.
"Well?"
"Master Tommy, sir. There's a-many 'ave noticed it; don't let 'im get
friends wi'----"
"With whom?"
Even in the dusk I could see the dull crimson creep into her cheeks.
"Squire Morris's son," she muttered.
We stood silent and face to face for a minute.
"You understand, sir?"