a fool as to
suppose that a tradesman could not wait a month for his money?

During all this time she had no friend,--no person to whom she could
speak,--except Mrs. Parker. Mrs. Parker was very open and very
confidential about the business, really knowing very much more about
it than did Mrs. Lopez. There was some sympathy and confidence
between her and her husband, though they had latterly been much
lessened by Sexty's conduct. Mrs. Parker talked daily about the
business now that her mouth had been opened, and was very clearly of
opinion that it was not a good business. "Sexty don't think it good
himself," she said.

"Then why does he go on with it?"

"Business is a thing, Mrs. Lopez, as people can't drop out of just at
a moment. A man gets hisself entangled, and must free hisself as best
he can. I know he's terribly afeard;--and sometimes he does say such
things of your husband!" Emily shrunk almost into herself as she
heard this. "You mustn't be angry, for indeed it's better you should
know all."

"I'm not angry; only very unhappy. Surely Mr. Parker could separate
himself from Mr. Lopez if he pleased?"

"That's what I say to him. Give it up, though it be ever so much as
you've to lose by him. Give it up, and begin again. You've always got
your experience, and if it's only a crust you can earn, that's sure
and safe. But then he declares that he means to pull through yet. I
know what men are at when they talk of pulling through, Mrs. Lopez.
There shouldn't be no need of pulling through. It should all come
just of its own accord,--little and little; but safe." Then, when
the days of their marine holiday were coming to an end,--in the
first week in October,--the day before the return of the Parkers to
Ponder's End, she made a strong appeal to her new friend. "You ain't
afraid of him; are you?"

"Of my husband?" said Mrs. Lopez. "I hope not. Why should you ask?"

"Believe me, a woman should never be afraid of 'em. I never would
give in to be bullied and made little of by Sexty. I'd do a'most
anything to make him comfortable, I'm that soft-hearted. And why not,
when he's the father of my children? But I'm not going not to say a
thing if I thinks it right, because I'm afeard."

"I think I could say anything if I thought it right."

"Then tell him of me and my babes,--as how I can never have a quiet
night while this is going on. It isn't that they two men are fond of
one another. Nothing of the sort! Now you;--I