"Oh, leave the boy alone!" said Kelly. "He's got some decent
feelings of his own, and it doesn't do to mother him too much.
Give him his head for a bit! He's far less likely to bolt."

Burke shrugged his shoulders. "I can't hold him if he means to go,
I quite admit. But I haven't much faith in his keeping on the
straight, and that's a fact. I don't like his going back to the
hut, and I'd have prevented it if I'd known. But I slept in the
sitting-room last night, and I was dead beat. He cleared out
early."

"Didn't anyone see him go?" queried Kelly keenly.

"Yes. My wife." Again Burke's tone was curt, repressive. "She
couldn't stop him."

"She made him hold hard with the brandy-bottle last night," said
Kelly. "I admired her for it. She's got a way with her, Burke.
Sure, the devil himself couldn't have resisted her then."

Burke's faint smile showed for a moment; he said nothing.

"How you must worship her!" went on Kelly, with amiable effusion.
"Some fellows have all the luck. Sure, you're never going to let
that sweet angel languish here like that poor little Mrs. Merston!
You wouldn't now! Come, you wouldn't!"

But Burke passed the matter by. He had pressing affairs on hand,
and obviously it was not his intention to discuss his conduct