Sam nodded. "Barrin', o' course, the bill for to-night's board an' lodgin'."
"'—Up to date 'e 'as paid S. Bossom over six pound, and 'as picked up with an engagement 'ere. Dear sir, you will see there's no risk, and S. Bossom will stay 'ere a week an' collect the balance.'"
"The Lord forbid!" Sam protested, laying down his pen.
"I'd like to know oo's writin' this letter—you or me?" She pointed to the paper. "Go on, please. 'Dear sir, a party as we will call W. B. 'as joined the company. W'ich is strange to say—'"
"Who's he?"
Sam looked up again, but Tilda's finger still pointed firmly.
"'W'ich 'e too continues 'earty; but You-know-Oo is close after 'im; and so, dear sir, 'avin' 'eard of an Island called 'Olmness, we are off there to-morrow, and will let you know further. W'ich I remain yours respectfully—' Now 'and over the pen an' let me sign."
"'Olmness? Where's 'Olmness?"
She took the pen from him and slowly printed TILDA, in roman capitals; examined the signature, made sure it was satisfactory, and at length answered—
"It's a Island, somewhere in the Bristol Channel, w'ich is in the Free
Library. We've just come from there."