"Then what's the matter with her?"
"There ain't nothing the matter with her, as I know by," answered Mr. George once more, in a non-committal tone. "But I'm her 'usband."
"You—Mr. George?" I gasped.
Thereupon he recognised me, and his eyes grew round, yet expressed no immoderate surprise.
"A nice dance you've led everybody!" he said slowly: "but I was never hopeful about you, I'm thankful to say."
"Where is Miss Plinlimmon living?" I asked. "Has she left the Hospital too?"
"She didn't leave it," he answered. "It left her. The Hospital's scat."
"Eh?"
"Bust—sold up—come to an end. Scougall's retired on the donations. He feathered his nest. And Miss Plinlimmon's gone down into Cornwall to live with a Major Brooks—a kind of relation of hers, so far as I can make out. They tell me she've come into money."
I had a question on my lips, but Mr. Jope interrupted.