"Not a know," said Mrs. Jones, looking down and smoothing her apron.
"Well, now. Of course you understand, Mrs. Jones—and I must explain this to you to account for my questions. Of course you understand that I am here as Sir Thomas's friend, to set certain matters right for him if I can."
"I supposed as much as that, if you please, sir."
"And any questions that I may ask you, I ask altogether on his behalf—on his behalf and on that of his wife, Lady Fitzgerald. I tell you, that you may have no scruples as to answering me."
"Oh, sir, I have no scruples as to that. But of course, sir, in anything I say I must be guided by—by—"
"By your own judgment you were going to say."
"Yes, sir; begging pardon for mentioning such a thing to the likes of you, sir."
"Quite right; quite right. Everybody should use their own judgment in everything they do or say, more or less. But now, Mrs. Jones, I want to know this: you remember her ladyship's first marriage, I dare say."
"Yes, sir, I remember it," said Mrs. Jones, shaking her head.
"It was a sad affair, wasn't it? I remember it well, though I was very young then. So were you too, Mrs. Jones."