Chapter 9
TWO PLACES VACATED
Set down by the omnibus at the corner of Saint Mary Axe, and trusting to her feet and her crutch-stick within its precincts, the dolls’ dressmaker proceeded to the place of business of Pubsey and Co. All there was sunny and quiet externally, and shady and quiet internally. Hiding herself in the entry outside the glass door, she could see from that post of observation the old man in his spectacles sitting writing at his desk.
‘Boh!’ cried the dressmaker, popping in her head at the glass-door. ‘Mr Wolf at home?’
The old man took his glasses off, and mildly laid them down beside him. ‘Ah Jenny, is it you? I thought you had given me up.’
‘And so I had given up the treacherous wolf of the forest,’ she replied; ‘but, godmother, it strikes me you have come back. I am not quite sure, because the wolf and you change forms. I want to ask you a question or two, to find out whether you are really godmother or really wolf. May I?’
‘Yes, Jenny, yes.’ But Riah glanced towards the door, as if he thought his principal might appear there, unseasonably.
‘If you’re afraid of the fox,’ said Miss Jenny, ‘you may dismiss all present expectations of seeing that animal. He won’t show himself abroad, for many a day.’
‘What do you mean, my child?’
‘I mean, godmother,’ replied Miss Wren, sitting down beside the Jew, ‘that the fox has caught a famous flogging, and that if his skin and bones are not tingling, aching, and smarting at this present instant, no fox did ever tingle, ache, and smart.’ Therewith Miss Jenny related what had come to pass in the Albany, omitting the few grains of pepper.