"It is I! Don't you know me?"
"Peti!" cried the Liptaka. "I thought you were at Dustbury. Where do you come from?"
"For God's sake, be quiet! Is he here?"
"Who?—Viola?"
"Yes! Whom else could I mean?"
The Liptaka was silent, for she knew that there were false brethren in Viola's gang.
"Do you suspect me?" said the gipsy, impatiently. "I have been on my legs ever since yesterday; but, if you do not know where he is, I must run until I find him, tired though I am."
"Are you coming to see him on business?"
"I must talk to Viola! I must, I tell you!"
"Very well; come with me," said the Liptaka, moved by the plaintive voice of the gipsy: and, more than half ashamed of having suspected him, she added: "One does get cautious in this sad time, since there are so many rascals even among the poor people."