“Mrs. Davies!”
“Yes, Mrs. Davies; you don't know what they've come here for—I overheard ye at the door! You have got an enemy in that filthy jail, haven't you, sir? Well! this man comes from him to see how bad you are—they were colloguing together backward and forward ever so long, and I heard 'em—it is not out of any kindness or good will in the world. Now suppose you march out the way you came in!” screamed Mrs. Davies.
“Mrs. Davies, be quiet and let me speak?”
“Of course I will, sir,” said the woman with a ludicrously sudden calm and coaxing tone.
There was a silence; Mr. Eden eyed the men. Small guilt peeped from them by its usual little signs.
Mr. Eden's lip curled magnificently.
“So you did not come to see me—you were sent by that man. (Mrs. Davies, be quiet; curiosity is not a crime, like torturing the defenseless.) Mr. Hawes sent you that you might tell him how soon his victims are like to lose their only earthly defender.”
The men colored and stammered; Mrs. Davies covered her face with her apron and rocked herself on her chair.
Mr. Eden flowed gently on.
“Tell your master that I have settled all my worldly affairs, and caused all my trifling debts to be paid.