"Well?" said the stranger, seemingly much amused.
"In Pump Court he lived," said 'Melia Jane. "And he lived by it as well as in it. Lor' bless you! The artful way in which he'd pump people, so's to get out of 'em every blessed thing he wanted to know—it was a sight, that's what it was!"
The man laughed heartily. "So you think we've come to pump you, my good girl! Perhaps you're right and perhaps you're wrong. Now if I were to ask you whether Miss Phœbe Farebrother slept at home last night—I mean here, in her aunt's house—I suppose you would call that pumping?"
"I should—and I shouldn't answer you."
"But why, my good girl?—why? Is there any reason for secrecy in so simple a matter? However, I will not ask you, and in proof that I'm not quite the bad sort of fellow you take me for, I will just inquire whether this brooch belongs to Miss Farebrother."
He produced the brooch which Mrs. Pamflett had given to Phœbe on her birthday.
"Yes, it's hern," said 'Melia Jane, holding out her hand for it.
"Did she wear it yesterday?"
"Pumping ag'in!"
"My good girl, you're enough to put one out of patience. Isn't it an act of kindness to restore lost property? But one must be sure first that it gets back into the hands of the right owner. Can you remember whether Miss Farebrother wore this brooch yesterday?"