Not that he expected any, but no sweat at all, thank goodness.“Hey, dummy.” Sally sat down on the edge of his bed near Patrick’s feet and claspe... her hands in her lap. “I want talk to you about the other night in the hall.”“What?” Patrick adjusted his thick glasses and looked back at the open book sitting on his chest. “Oh, that was nothing.”“No, you’re right.” Sally nodded with solemnity. “I was groggy and hungry and I thought you were Jack.” This was a stupid lie, Sally had said things that. Darcy knew that he should have beaten that guy to pulp, but then that would be little different than hitting a woman. Anyway, the guy looked rather muscular. To settle the matter without fuss, Darcy simply left the bale of wool on his barrow halfway to the temporary dump, gave the fingers sign to the wool classer who looked at him called ‘Fetch, Rover’ and went to the pay clerk to sign a termination notice and collect his final pay. He felt little different to those times when his mother had. More

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