I pulled the apron from her face, and gave her a good shaking by way of corrective. She ceased her moans.
"I have no patience with you, Fanny," I exclaimed. "In heaven's name, what do you want to be forgiven for?"
"For dragging you into this horrible business, sir," she said, with a tendency to relapse, which I immediately checked by another shaking. "That--that devil up-stairs----"
This time I shook her so soundly that she could not get out another word for the chattering of her teeth.
"No more, Fanny," I said roughly, "or you will make me angry. I know what I am about, and if you don't stop instantly and do exactly as I bid you, I'll leave you and your Lemon to your fate. Do you hear?"
The threat terrified her into calmness.
"I'll bring up the bed-things, sir," she said, with bated breath.
"And lose no time," I said, as I mounted the stairs.
"I won't, sir."
Devlin was smoking when I joined him, and not smoking a pipe, but a cigar with a most delicious fragrance.