"Then you can't 'ave it."
"That's a pity." He appeared to ruminate for a second or two. "And I can't offer to take it out in orphans, neither. Very well, then, I must see Glasson."
"You can't; 'e's not at 'ome."
"That's a worse pity. Hist, now!" he went on with a sudden change of tone, "it's about the runaways. I've news of 'em."
He said it at the top of his voice.
"For the Lord's sake—" entreated the woman, glancing nervously across his shoulder at the traffic in the street. "The Doctor don't want it discussed for all the town to 'ear."
"No, I bet he don't. But it's your own fault, missus. This side o' the gate a man can't scarcely hear hisself speak."
"Come in, then, if you've brought news. The Doctor'll be glad enough when 'e comes back."
"Will he?" Mr. Hucks, as she opened, planted his bulk against the gate, pushing it back and at the same time making way for Miss Sally to follow him. "Yes, I got news; but here's a lady can tell it better than me— 'avin' come acrost them right away down in Somerset."
Mrs. Huggins stepped forward, but too late. "I don't want no crowd in 'ere," she muttered, falling back a pace, however, as Miss Sally confronted her.