"My dear soul! I am a doctor belonging to the hospital which your husband goes to; and have known him since he was a boy, down in Berkshire."
"You?" and she looked keenly at him.
"My name is Thurnall. I was a medical man once in Whitbury, where your husband was born."
"You?" said she again, in a softened tone, "I knows that name well enough."
"You do? What was your name, then?" said Tom, who recognised the woman's
Berkshire accent beneath its coat of cockneyism.
"Never you mind: I'm no credit to it, so I'll let it be. But come in, for the old county's sake. Can't offer you a chair, he's pawned 'em all. Pleasant old place it was down there, when I was a young girl; they say it's grow'd a grand place now, wi' a railroad. I think many times I'd like to go down and die there." She spoke in a rough, sullen, careless tone, as if life-weary.
"My good woman," said Major Campbell, a little impatiently, "can you find your husband for us?"
"Why then?" asked she sharply, her suspicion seeming to return.
"If he will answer a few questions, I will give him five shillings. If he can find out for me what I want, I will give him five pounds."
"Shouldn't I do as well? If you gi' it he, it's little out of it I shall see, but he coming home tipsy when it's spent. Ah, dear! it was a sad day for me when I first fell in with they play-goers!"