“Aye—​surely.”

“Dear me; how remarkable! You know him, then?”

“Well, I know about him—​have seen him several times in the neighbourhood of Broxbridge.”

“Oh! that’s where he came from.”

“I suppose so. He was with farmer Jamblin. How is it he is here?”

“Poor fellow! he was starving, and—​and—​well, I made him useful, and gave him board and lodging.”

“Ah!” murmured Peace, looking down on the floor of the apartment. “Well, I suppose it’s all right?” here he whistled.

His companion burst out into a loud laugh.

“You’re not getting nasty particular, I hope?” she ejaculated.

“I suppose the boy is nothing to you?”