"Eat away, my lad." The woman kept on cutting bread, but she was evidently listening intently.
"I'm glad now, sir," I said; "but he hurt me so, and I was in such a passion that I didn't think.

I didn't know who he was." "Of course not.

Go on with your supper." "I hope, sir, you don't think I was going to eat that peach," I said, for the thought of the affair made my supper seem to choke me.
"If I thought you were the sort of boy who couldn't be trusted, my lad, you wouldn't be here," said Mr Solomon quietly.

"Bit more fat, mother." I brightened up, and he saw it.
"Why, of course not, my lad.

Didn't I trust you, and send you in among my choice grapes, and ripe figs, and things.