"That Sunday Augustus pushed Henry, the three of them ate, once again, in silence.

"The next Sunday Robbins was waiting. 'I heard you did something to my boy, to my property,' he said before Augustus and Mildred were down from the wagon. "'No, Mr. Robbins. I did nothing,' Augustus said, having forgotten the push. "'We wouldn't,' Mildred said. 'We wouldn't hurt him for the world. He our son.' "Robbins looked at her as if she had told him the day was Wednesday. 'I won't have you touching my boy, my property.' His horse, Sir Guilderham, was idling two or so paces behind his master. And just as the horse began to wander away, Robbins turned and picked up the reins, mounted. 'No more visits for a month,' he said, picking one piece of lint from the horse's ear. "'Please, Mr. Robbins,'...