THE STEADFAST HEART
again. “Don’t pay no attention to that mother of your’n, which is a trouble and care to both of us and ought to be ashamed of herself. I asked you a question, and, so doin’, be you a-goin’ to answer it? Yes or no?”
Angus turned a dull, phlegmatic, expressionless face to his father. “It don’t make no difference to me,” he said, and went on with his work.
“Kin you look after her fine like I’ve done, keepin’ her dressed like a queen, and allus smilin’ and happy? Kin you be a good son to her like I been a good husband—pervidin’ more grub ’n she could eat and humorin’ her and lettin’ her lay abed all day like a lady with a fortune? Kin you do them things if I go away?”
Mrs. Burke moaned, but refrained from speech. She did not believe her husband would desert her, but whenever, as was frequent, he threatened to do so, terror seized the remnant of her soul and she suffered.
“What you makin’ that squealin’ about?” Titus demanded. “Don’t go interruptin’ a pleasant conversation. Me ’n my son is speculatin’ on the future, if certain happenin’s should come to happen, which they’re likely to do. I got a hankerin’ to see the world, Angy. I’d like to travel off to Californy and Missouri and mebby Europe. Wouldn’t you jest be proud, Angy, if your ol’ daddy was to see a king? Think of standin’
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