Duff. I was
only talking to Dan."
Dan sidled off to the street door. Once there, he took to his heels, out
of harm's way. Mr. Verner might begin telling his mother more
particulars, and it was as well to be at a safe distance.
Lionel, however, had no intention to betray trust. He stood chatting a
few minutes with Mrs. Duff. He and Mrs. Duff had been great friends when
he was an Eton boy; many a time had he ransacked her shop over for flies
and gut and other fishing tackle, a supply of which Mrs. Duff professed
to keep. She listened to him with a somewhat preoccupied manner; in
point of fact, she was debating a question with herself.
"Sir," said she, rubbing her hands nervously one over the other, "I
should like to make bold to ask a favour of you. But I don't know how it
might be took. I'm fearful it might be took as a cause of offence."
"Not by me. What is it?"
"It's a delicate thing, sir, to have to ask about," resumed she. "And I
shouldn't venture, sir, to speak to _you_, but that I'm so put to it,
and that I've got it in my head it's through the fault of the servants.
Pages:
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751