“Don’t dear me, man,” cried the girl. “What’s your business?”
“Is the doctor in?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is your mistress alone?”
“If she is I’m sure she won’t see you.”
“Well, you’re a nice-looking girl, but a little sharp, but that don’t matter. Now listen.”
“I am listening. Go on, and be as quick as possible.”
“I’ve got a letter for your mistress,” said Cooney, in a strange whisper, “which must be delivered into her own hands.”
“A begging letter I suppose.”
“No, it aint no begging letter, nuffin of the sort. You were never more mistaken in your life, but it’s a letter from a friend, and is of the greatest importance.”