“Who? Why me and missus.”

“Ah, and who might your missus be?”

“Mrs. Bourne, of course, who do you suppose?”

“I don’t suppose anything. She’s the doctor’s wife then?”

“Yes, certainly. What makes you ask such a stupid question? Just mind your own business.”

“Now don’t be angry. You are a charming girl, as beautiful as the flowers—​I mean, as a butterfly.”

“Get along with your nonsense—​do.”

She was about to pass on, but he detained her.

“What on earth do you want?” she ejaculated.

“Only a word—​only a word or two.” He drew her into the back parlour.