"I asked," said the woman at length, "because this is a poor place for chimbleys."
"He's in trouble," Mr. Jope explained; "in trouble—along o' killing a Jew."
"Oh no, Mr. Jope!" I cried. "I didn't—"
"Couldn't," interrupted his sister shortly, and fell into a brown study. "Constables after him?" she asked.
Mr. Jope nodded.
Her next utterance struck me as irrelevant, to say the least of it. "Ben, 'tis high time you followed O.P.'s example."
"Meaning?" queried Ben.
"O, Onesimus. P, Pengelly. Example, marriage. There's the widow Babbage, down to Dock: she always had a hankering for you. You're neglecting your privileges."
"Ever seen that boy of hers?" asked Ben in an aggrieved voice. "No, of course you haven't, or you wouldn't suggest it. And why marry me up to a widow?"
"O.P.," said the lady, "tell him you prefer it."