"No, not far; from London."
Then he commenced to talk of fine houses and big fees, and somehow drew from Job the story of the murder of Starling and the fact that most of the people concerned in the tragedy had gone away.
"It is very strange," he said, "very! A murder is not what you would call common in England? What did you do with ze Mastro Leicester; hang him up by ze neck?"
"No," said the man, shaking his head. "He died without that. He fell over the cliff with the chap he'd done for, and so the country was saved the trouble of that."
Leicester sat like a man in a dream, but gave no outward sign that the story had affected him.
Stumpy, thinking that he had pumped quite enough for the present requested Polly to bring cigars for himself and his master, and leaned back with an air of enjoyment.
After a few words with Leicester, who was known as Signor Edgardo, Stumpy asked if they could have a bed.
Martha answered shortly and decisively:
"No! I haven't got any beds to spare."
Stumpy inquired where he could get one.