Lavinia hurried past grim Newgate and crossed the road. The coffee house was on the other side. Hannah was standing in the doorway in a cruciform attitude, her arms stretched out, each hand grasping the frame on either side. She was gossipping with a man and laughing heartily. Lavinia decided that her mother must be out. If at home she would never allow Hannah this liberty. Lavinia glided to the woman and touched one of the outstretched hands. Hannah gave a little "squark" when she felt the girl's cold fingers.
"It's only me Hannah," whispered Lavinia.
"Only me—an' who's me?... Bless us an' save us child, what do you go about like a churchyard ghost for? Where in 'eaven's name have ye sprung from? I never come across anybody like you, Miss Lavvy, for a worryin' other people. I've been a-crying my eyes out over ye."
"And mother, has she been crying too?"
"Your mother? Not she," returned Hannah with a sniff of contempt. "Catch her a-cryin' over anything 'cept when she hasn't won a prize in a lottery. But come you in. I've ever so much to tell you. You'd best be off Reuben. I'll see you later."
Reuben who was one of the men employed at Coupland's soap works in the Old Bailey, looked a little disappointed, but he obeyed nevertheless.
"You've given us a pretty fright and your lady mother's been in a mighty tantrum. I tell you it's a wonder as she didn't tear my eyes out. She swore as it was all my fault a lettin' you go. But what have you come back for?"
"I had to. But don't bother, it's only for a few hours. Mother's out I know."
"Course she is. Simpson the cattle dealer's a-beauing her to Marybone Gardens. They won't be back this side o' midnight. Now just tell me what you been a-doin' of. You're a pretty bag o' mischief if ever there was one. Who's the man this time? T'aint the one as you runned away with, is it?"
"No, indeed," cried Lavinia, indignantly. "I don't want ever to see him again."