CHAPTER XVII. DIAMOND GOES ON
Project Gutenberg EPUB3 edition
MacDonald, George
“She had rings on her fingers, anyhow,” returned Diamond.
“Of course she had, as any lady would. What has that to do with it?”
“When we were down at Sandwich,” said Diamond, “you said you would have to part with your mother's ring, now we were poor.”
“Bless the child; he forgets nothing,” said his mother. “Really, Diamond, a body would need to mind what they say to you.”
“Why?” said Diamond. “I only think about it.”
“That's just why,” said the mother.
“Why is that why?” persisted Diamond, for he had not yet learned that grown-up people are not often so much grown up that they never talk like children—and spoilt ones too.
“Mrs. Coleman is none so poor as all that yet. No, thank Heaven! she's not come to that.”
“Is it a great disgrace to be poor?” asked Diamond, because of the tone in which his mother had spoken.
But his mother, whether conscience-stricken I do not know hurried him away to bed, where after various attempts to understand her, resumed and resumed again in spite of invading sleep, he was conquered at last, and gave in, murmuring over and over to himself, “Why is why?” but getting no answer to the question.