“You’d let her throw herself away for me?”
“I’d let ’er do anythink what’d show I knowed my own mind, Mr. Rash. If it wouldn’t be steppin’ out of my place to sye so, I wish Mr. Rash could tell which of these two young lydies ’e wanted, and which ’e’d be willin’ for to––”
“How can I tell that when—when both have a claim on me?”
“Yes, but only one ’as a clyme on Mr. Rash now. Madam ’as given up ’er clyme, so as to myke things easier for ’im. There’s only one clyme now for Mr. Rash to think about, and that mykes everythink simple.”
An embarrassed cough drew Steptoe’s attention to the fact that someone was standing in the hall outside. It was William with a note on a silver tray. Beside the note stood a small square package, tied with a white ribbon, which looked as if it contained a piece of wedding cake. His whisper of explanation was the word, “Wildgoose,” but a cocking of his eye gave Steptoe to understand that William was quite aware of wading in the current of his employer’s love-affairs. Moreover, the fact that Steptoe and his master should be making so free with the little back spare room was in William’s judgment evidence of drama.
“What’s this?”
Glancing at the hand-writing on the envelope, and taking in the fact that a small square package, looking 285 like a bit of wedding cake stood beside it, Allerton jumped back. Steptoe might have been presenting him with a snake.
“I don’t know, Mr. Rash. William ’as just brought it up. Someone seems to ’ave left it at the door.”
As Steptoe continued to stand with his offering held out Allerton had no choice but to take up the letter and break the seal. He read it with little grunts intended to signify ironic laughter, but which betrayed no more than bitterness of soul.
“Dear Rash: