‘I dunno wot it’s in,’ she said. And then, impelled as always to the naked truth, she added, ‘Close by ’ere, any’ow.’
‘What does she say?’ inquired the Duke, turning again to Charles.
‘She says,’ shouted Charles, obliged to hand on the answer correctly with Sally listening, but doing so with increased regret, ‘that it isn’t far from here.’
‘How very lucky,’ said the Duke, ‘and how very odd that I shouldn’t have known he was so near.’ And he added, when he had been lowered into his chair at the head of the table by the parlourmaid, who held one arm, and his servant, who held the other, ‘I’d like to have a talk with that father of yours, my dear.’
Sally turned paler.
‘Your grandfather was one of my oldest friends,’ continued the Duke, with difficulty unfolding his table-napkin because of how much his hands shook.
‘I ain’t got no grandfather,’ said Sally anxiously, who had never heard of him till that moment.
‘What does she say?’ asked the Duke.
‘She says,’ began Charles reluctantly—‘You know,’ he muttered quickly to Sally, for how could he tell the old man what she had said? ‘you have a grandfather—or had. You must have. Everybody has them.’
‘What? What?’ said the Duke impatiently. ‘Send a message round tonight, Charles, and say with my compliments that I’d very much like to see Pinner. Tell him I’m too old to go to him, so perhaps he’ll be obliging enough to come to me some time tomorrow. You can say his father was at Oxford with me if you like, and that I’ve only just heard he is in the neighbourhood. Say his daughter——’