"There was Pollocky;—him at the Highbury Gas Works. He came after me. It was because of him she dropped me."
"Was that going on for a marriage?"
"Right ahead, I used to think. Pollocky is a widower with five children."
"Oh Lord!"
"But he's the head of all the gas, and has four hundred a year. It wasn't love as carried her on with him. I could see that. She wouldn't go and meet him anywhere about the City, as she did me. I suppose Pollocky is fifty, if he's a day."
"And she dropped him also?"
"Or else it was he." On receipt of this information Crocker whistled. "It was something about money," continued Tribbledale. "The old woman wouldn't part."
"There is money I suppose?"
"The old woman has a lot."
"And isn't the niece to have it?" asked Crocker.