“Sir,” said Rugge, at length, “what do you say to a chop and a pint of wine? Perhaps we could talk more at our ease elsewhere. I am only in town for a day; left my company thirty miles off,—orphans, as I said before.”
“Mr. Rugge,” said Losely, “I have no desire to stay in London, or indeed in England; and the sooner we can settle this matter the better. Grant that we find the young lady, you provide for her board and lodging; teach her your honourable profession; behave, of course, kindly to her.”
“Like a father.”
“And give to me the sum of L100?”
“That is, if you can legally make her over to me. But, sir, may I inquire by what authority you would act in this matter?”
“On that head it will be easy to satisfy you; meanwhile I accept your proposal of an early dinner. Let us adjourn; is it to your house?”
“I have no exact private house in London; but I know a public one,—commodious.”
“Be it so. After you, sir.”
As they descended the stairs, the old woman-servant stood at the street door. Rugge went out first; the woman detained Losely. “Do you find her altered?”
“Whom? Mrs. Crane?—why, years will tell. But you seem to have known me; I don’t remember you.”