"Yes; I am looking after the poor man. There is nothing wrong in that, I hope?"
"On the contrary," said her niece, and went towards the door. It was opened by Job, who, during this interview, had been most discreetly silent. He winked at the girl--not rudely, but to intimate that he still looked upon her as a Romany sister--and ushered her into the room.
Mrs. Marshall had resumed her seat by the fire, and pointed out the other chair to her niece. Job leant up against the table, and regarded the two with a twinkle in his dark eyes. Evidently he anticipated some amusement.
"Have you been here before, Ruth?" asked the elder lady, sharply.
"Once; I was curious to see the place."
"On account of the murder, I suppose?" replied Mrs. Marshall, with contempt. "Really, Ruth, I do wonder that you should care to concern yourself with such horrors! And why do you come here again?"
"To see Job," was the quiet answer.
"Me and the lady are pals," put in Job. "Oh, yes; she can patter the black tongue, and she is a real Romany sister."
"Perhaps, Ruth, you will explain," said Mrs. Marshall, both puzzled and annoyed.
"I think Job has already done so," Ruth said, coolly. "I met him here by accident when last I came, and I talked Romany to him. He has taken me as a sister of the gypsy folk. I am a female Borrow."