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LONG HICKS raved and tore at his hair, striding about the shop, and cursing himself with whatever words he could find. Johnny was excited still, but he grew thoughtful. There was more in this business, he saw now, than the mere happy riddance of Butson. What of the future? His mother was prostrated, and lay moaning on her bed. No one was there to tend her but Bessy, and there was no likelihood of help; they had no intimacy with neighbours, and indeed the stark morality of Harbour Lane womankind would have cut it off if they had. For already poor Nan was tried and condemned (as was the expeditious manner of Harbour Lane in such a matter), and no woman could dare so much as brush skirts with her.
"It's my fault -- all of it!" said the unhappy Hicks. "I shouldn't 'a' bin such a fool! But how was I to know she'd go on like that, after what she'd agreed to? Oh, damme, I shouldn't 'a' meddled!"