"Oh! yes," said Peter. "I—I wouldn't talk about it at all, if I were you."
"No, I daresay you're right—can't be too careful with an old cat like that. Well, what I want you to do is to try and find out—quietly, you know—who this infernal fellow is!"
"Well, I daresay I could do that," said Peter.
"No one would think a mild, innocent-looking little chap like you had any particular motive for asking: you might ask some of the men in the smoking-room, and pick up some clue or other."
"So I might," said Peter,—"good idea!"
"Or, I'll tell you what—you might pump the old lady for me, eh?"
"I don't think I quite care about pumping the old lady," said Peter, "but anything else I'll do with pleasure."
"Thanks," said the Manager; "that's a good fellow. I knew I could depend upon you!"
"You can," replied Peter, "though, I fancy," he added, soothingly,—"indeed, I am sure you will find that the old woman has made a good deal out of nothing at all." ...
"What old woman, Peter?" asked Sophia with drowsy asperity. "Not Mrs. Linden, surely!"