“Bad,” replied the woman. “Pale and exhausted. Very bad.”
“Did she speak much?”
“Not much, but her voice was hoarse.”
She answered, looking all the while at her husband for leave.
“Was she faint?” said I. “Did she eat or drink here?”
“Go on!” said the husband in answer to her look. “Tell her and cut it short.”
“She had a little water, miss, and Jenny fetched her some bread and tea. But she hardly touched it.”
“And when she went from here,” I was proceeding, when Jenny’s husband impatiently took me up.
“When she went from here, she went right away nor’ard by the high road. Ask on the road if you doubt me, and see if it warn’t so. Now, there’s the end. That’s all about it.”
I glanced at my companion, and finding that he had already risen and was ready to depart, thanked them for what they had told me, and took my leave. The woman looked full at Mr. Bucket as he went out, and he looked full at her.