‘She says she’ll settle her missis’s life,’ replied Mrs. Tibbs. ‘The wretch! they’re plotting murder.’
‘I know you want money,’ continued the voice, which belonged to Agnes; ‘and if you’d secure me the five hundred pound, I warrant she should take fire soon enough.’
‘What’s that?’ inquired Evenson again. He could just hear enough to want to hear more.
‘I think she says she’ll set the house on fire,’ replied the affrighted Mrs. Tibbs. ‘But thank God I’m insured in the Phoenix!’
‘The moment I have secured your mistress, my dear,’ said a man’s voice in a strong Irish brogue, ‘you may depend on having the money.’
‘Bless my soul, it’s Mr. O’Bleary!’ exclaimed Mrs. Tibbs, in a parenthesis.
‘The villain!’ said the indignant Mr. Evenson.
‘The first thing to be done,’ continued the Hibernian, ‘is to poison Mr. Gobler’s mind.’
‘Oh, certainly,’ returned Agnes.
‘What’s that?’ inquired Evenson again, in an agony of curiosity and a whisper.