“Bridgy,” he said, “here’s a shilling for you. Is Mr. O’Loughlin inside?”
“He is, sir,” said Bridgy.
“Then tell him to come out here. I want to speak to him.”
“Is it out to the stable?”
Mr. Goddard had sacrificed his own self-respect when he yielded to temptation and made up his mind to escape. He now flung away all hope of ever being respected by Bridgy.
“Yes; here in the stable. And if you meet Miss Blow, don’t tell her where I am.”
“I will not. Why would I? But sure——”
“Go on now, like a good girl, and don’t waste your time talking to me.”
Jimmy O’Loughlin was a man of tact and good manners. He greeted Mr. Goddard cheerfully as if then were nothing surprising in the choice of a stable for the scene of an important interview. He had been warned by Bridgy that Mr. Goddard, for some reason, stood in terror of Miss Blow; but he made no allusion to her. He opened the conversation with a remark on a safe, indifferent topic.
“Them was queer people,” he said, alluding to the Members of Parliament and their party.