“And nothing to do, Rob?”
“Nothing particular to do just now, Misses Brown, but to—keep my eyes open,” said the Grinder, rolling them in a forlorn way.
“Master abroad, Rob?”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Misses Brown, couldn’t you gossip with a cove about anything else?” cried the Grinder, in a burst of despair.
The impetuous Mrs Brown rising directly, the tortured Grinder detained her, stammering “Ye-es, Misses Brown, I believe he’s abroad. What’s she staring at?” he added, in allusion to the daughter, whose eyes were fixed upon the face that now again looked out behind.
“Don’t mind her, lad,” said the old woman, holding him closer to prevent his turning round. “It’s her way—her way. Tell me, Rob. Did you ever see the lady, deary?”
“Oh, Misses Brown, what lady?” cried the Grinder in a tone of piteous supplication.
“What lady?” she retorted. “The lady; Mrs Dombey.”
“Yes, I believe I see her once,” replied Rob.
“The night she went away, Robby, eh?” said the old woman in his ear, and taking note of every change in his face. “Aha! I know it was that night.”