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Had William Geake made her a better? Whatever had to be done must be done quickly. Here was the innocent wrecker of so much happiness hanging on his lips for the next word, watching wistfully for his orders, like any spaniel dog. And Naomi would be back before nightfall. God was giving him no time: it was unfair to hustle a man in this way.
It also told him he had not guessed it before that her emotional breakdown had probably more to do with physical exhaustion than with any eloquence of his. The pile of washing had grown, and the woman's face was grey with fatigue. Geake, as he made out the voucher, cast about for a polite mode of hinting that this kind of thing must not go on. Nevertheless it was Naomi who began.
His Bible, in which before breakfast he had been searching for a text, lay open on the side table. Behind its place on the shelf was a small skivet he had let into the wall; and in that drawer was stored something over twenty-five pounds, the third of his savings. Geake kept a bank-account, and the balance lay at interest with Messrs. Climo and Hodges, of St. Austell.
"You've been callin' on William Geake: an' you didn' find Naomi at home." "Geake don't want it known." "That's likely enough. You've got twenty-five pound' o' his in your pocket." Abe Bricknell involuntarily put up a hand to his breast. "Ay, it's there," said Long Oliver, nodding. "It's odd now, but I've got twenty-five pound in gold in my pocket; an' I want you to swop."
But there was a triumphant look in his eyes that dared Naomi to repeat her offence, and she very nearly wept as she felt that the words would not come. This and the shame of publicity drove her back into her room as Geake passed down the stairs to collect the other rents. A few women still hung about the doorway as he emerged, some twenty minutes later.
"Well, I swow that was very friendly of Mister Geake!" the old woman ejaculated, as the door closed behind him. "'Tisn't everybody'd ha' thought what a comfort a little scrap o' religion can be to an old woman in my state." "He took a great liberty," said Naomi snappishly.
This was William Geake, who walked in from Gantick every Saturday to collect the sixpences and shillings of Vellan's Rents for its landlord, a well-to-do wine and spirit merchant at Tregarrick.
"Twenty-five pounds is the sum," he explained; "an' you must be sure to get it in five-pound notes new five-pound notes. You'll not forget that?" He closed the envelope and handed it up to Long Oliver, who buttoned it in his breast-pocket. "You shall have it, Mr. Geake, by five o'clock this evenin'," said he, giving the reins a shake on the mare's back; "so 'long!" and he rattled off.
She cowered a little under his grasp; put out a hand to push him off; drew it back; and broke into helpless sobbing. But this time she did not command him to go away. Fifteen minutes later William Geake left Vellan's Rents with joy on his face and a broken table under his arm. And two days later Naomi's face wore a look of demure happiness when Long Oliver stopped her on the staircase and asked,
On this occasion William Geake prayed in a low and level tone, and very briefly. He made no allusion to last Saturday, but put up an earnest petition for blessings upon "our two sisters here," and that they might learn to accept their appointed portion with resignation, yea, even with a holy joy.
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