‘Good-avenin’,’ said Bridget; ‘and can ye see a lady privately?’
‘Certainly,’ said Richard, ‘I can see you privately; but,’ he added, with a mischievous smile, ‘I’m afraid our interview won’t amount to much unless you’re more communicative than you were this morning.’
‘Bless and save ye, sir! ’tis not meself that wants ye—’tis her.’
‘Her?’
‘The misthress sent me up to find out whisht whether ye could be seen.’
‘Miss Craig is outside?’
‘The same, sir. Ye’ll see her?’
‘See her? Naturally I will see her. But—but—how did you discover my address?’
By this time they were hurrying down the multitudinous steps to the ground-floor.
‘Sure, we called at the Williamson Company, and they said you’d left and they didn’t know your address. And then we came out, and who should we see but Mr. Puddephatt leading a pony. ’Twas the Virgin’s own miracle! “Hullo!” he says, lifting his hat.