And she flung open the window, and almost flew through it in a moment, to look for her husband.
“Reginald?” said Staines. Then turning to Dick Dale, “Why, he is here—isn't he?”
“No, sir: not without he is just come with you.”
“With me?—no. You know we parted at the diggings. Come, Mr. Dale, he may not be here now; but he has been here. He must have been here.”
Phoebe, who had not lost a word, turned round, with all her high color gone, and her cheeks getting paler and paler. “Oh, Dick! what is this?”
“I don't understand it,” said Dick. “Whatever made you think he was here, sir?”
“Why, I tell you he left me to come here.”
“Left you, sir!” faltered Phoebe. “Why, when?—where?”
“At the diggings—ever so long ago.”
“Blank him! that is just like him; the uneasy fool!” roared Dick.