‘It is even so, my kind friend,’ said Mr. Truelocke, smiling.
‘Well, I can’t tell what you may think here of the matter,’ went on Master Harry; ‘but in my conscience, I think my father’s conscience something too tender.’
‘You speak like a man of this world, Harry,’ says Andrew, who had come in, and was looking at the young man with frowning brows and angry eyes.
‘How else would you have me speak?’ says Harry. ‘I am but a plain sailor, and I pretend not to know any world but this work-a-day world that I have to get my bread in. I leave the new worlds in the moon, or beyond it, to poets and madmen; and I’ll tell you my mind of the matter, if you will hear me.
He stopped, and Mrs. Golding said, ‘Speak your mind, Master Harry, it’s ever an honest mind, and full of goodwill.’
‘I will ventu
