The Jew made no answer, but bending over the sleeper again, hauled him into a sitting posture. When his assumed name had been repeated several times, Noah rubbed his eyes, and giving a heavy yawn looked sleepily about him.
“Tell me that again—once again, just for him to hear,” said the Jew, pointing to Sikes as he spoke.
“Tell yer what?” asked the sleepy Noah, shaking himself pettishly.
“That about—Nancy,” said the Jew, clutching Sikes by the wrist, as if to prevent his leaving the house before he had heard enough. “You followed her?”
“Yes.”
“To London Bridge?”
“Yes.”
“Where she met two people?”
“So she did.”
“A gentleman, and a lady that she had gone to of her own accord before, who asked her to give up all her pals, and Monks first, which she did—and to describe him, which she did—and to tell her what house it was that we meet at and go to, which she did—and where it could be best watched from, which she did—and what time the people went there, which she did. She did all this. She told it all every word without a threat, without a murmur—she did—didn’t she?” cried the Jew, half mad with fury.