“I hope I’m not,” said Marie with a girlish laugh, which brought a perplexed smile in answer on the old woman’s dirty wrinkled face. It was rare that such pure innocent laughter was heard in Gibson’s Rents. “I know you will help me, Mrs. Slaig.”
“Well, I don’t say as I won’t, for there’s no denying you’ve got a way with you, as ain’t bad. What is it?”
“It’s about the murder of Mr. Grison?” said Marie slowly.
Mother Slaig aroused with a subdued screech, “Blimme if you ain’t one o’ them wimin ’tecs. Now ain’t y’, ain’t y’?”
“No; I am the niece of Mr. Randolph Sorley who is accused of the crime.”
Mother Slaig dropped again into her chair a shapeless bundle of clothes, and with a bewildered look in her eyes. “Ho! you’re her, are y’?” she growled, but not in a hostile manner. “Moon—he’s the head peeler hereabouts, dearie’s been nosin’ round about that murder. Only this mornin’ he comes an’ ses as they caught that Sorley cove larst night, and he got away in th’ bloomin’ fog. Yuss,” said Mother Slaig, anticipating Marie’s question. “I knows the Sorley cove. Many a time he’s come t’ see that Grison chap, as was a rotten bad egg, and guv me shillin’s and tanners endless. A swell, a toff, he was tryin’ to look what wasn’t his age, but a good ’un wiff his cash. I ’adn’t got no row with him, nohow,” and she nodded vigorously.
“You don’t think he murdered Mr. Grison?” asked Marie apprehensively.
“Blimme if I knows,” said Mother Slaig reflectively, and scratching her elbow again, “and what odd’s ’f he did anyhow, miss. Grison was better undergroun’ than above it in my opinion. Never paid his rent rigler he did, cuss him,” swore Mother Slaig furiously, “an’ if I’d knowed about that gold hen as they’re makin’ sich a fuss round, I’d ha’ had it out of him for a whelp as he allays was, an’ that same, you kin taike fro’ me, miss.”
“Well I don’t believe that my uncle murdered Mr. Grison,” said Marie in a resolute voice, and looking hard at the harridan.
“That’s right, dearie, allys stick up fur them as is relatives, though I don’t think much o’ mine leavin’ me ’ere to slave cruel, and never givin’ no cash whiff their stingyness. He was ’ere that night y’ know anyhow.”