"Leaving her where she is," responded the doctor. "She really isn't fit to be moved." He added this information in the tone of one imparting confidences to a friend.
"Fit or not fit, do you suppose I'm gointer let 'er stop there? A low, ondecent 'ussy like what she is, to lie between my honest sheets! Take the gel away, I tell you! Do you want to make trouble between a man and 'is wife? Take the gel away!"
Dr. Brink assumed a highly authoritative tone. "It is my duty as a doctor, madam," said he, "to warn you that the girl is not fit to be moved. And your husband, who in law is the responsible head of this house, agrees with me that——"
"Why ain't she fit to be moved? Answer me that?" rasped the woman.
"Because," said the doctor, as 'Ost 'Uggins's expressive features came peeking round the doorpost, "because a poor girl of twenty who has just given birth to——"
"Given birth!" shrieked the woman. "Given birth! And in my 'ouse!
"The disgraceful, shameless thing! And me to be kept in ignorance! And now I think of it, I did seem to think or fancy as I heered a squallin'. In my 'ouse above all! May the Lord—— 'Ssh! What's that?"
"That," explained 'Ost 'Uggins, obtruding a further portion of his face, "is the little bleater callin' for 'is vittles."
Mrs. Muggins's face grew strangely red, her lip grew strangely tremulous. "It's a funny thing to me," she said, "to think as I wasn't allowed to know.... 'Oo's with 'er?"
"Mrs. Tuck, from the cabyard," responded 'Ost 'Uggins, "'as laid the fondling out an' that."