Was she then a coward?
That any reflection should be made upon his mother stabbed him to the heart.

Again and again Mop's sneering, grinning face appeared before his eyes.

He felt that he could have gladly killed him in the woods, but after all, the paralysing thought ever recurred that what Mop said was true.

His mother was a coward! He put his head down upon his books and groaned aloud.
"What is it, dear ?" inquired his mother.
"I am going to bed, mother," he said.
"Is your head bad ?" she asked.
"No, no, mother.

It is nothing.