Ephraim had come in just as she spoke last to Rebecca, and he stood staring, grinning with gaping mouth.
"What's Rebecca done, mother ?" he asked, pleadingly, catching hold of his mother's dress.
"Nothin' for you to know.

Go an' wash your face an' hands, an' come in to supper." "Mother, what's she done ?" Ephraim's pleading voice lengthened into a whine.

He took more liberties with his mother than any one else dared; he even jerked her dress now by way of enforcing an answer.
But she grasped his arm so vigorously that he cried out.

"Go out to the pump, an' wash your face an' hands," she repeated, and Ephraim made a little involuntary run to the door.
As he went out he rolled his eyes over his shoulder at his mother with tragic surprise and reproach, but she paid no attention.

When he came in she ignored the great painful sigh which he heaved and the podgy hand clapped ostentatiously over his left side.