The Duke felt sure that he ought not to say “Last night”; accordingly he replied “Yuster-e’en.”
The lady looked suspicious. “You’re seeking employment?”
Suddenly—and opportunely—the Duke remembered Frank’s warning: he was to be out of work.
“Yus, I be,” he said, wondering if his face were dirty enough.
“Church or Chapel?” she asked sharply.
“Charch,” answered the Duke. And by a happy thought he added, “Ma’am.”
“What’s your name?” With the question she produced a little note-book and a pencil.
“Bevv——” he began thoughtlessly. He stopped. A barren invention, and a mind acute to the danger of hesitation, combined to land him in “Devvle.”
“Devil? That’s a very odd name.”
“My feyther’s name afore me,” affirmed the Duke, who felt that he was playing his part rather well, though he regretted that a different initial consonant had not occurred to him.