"Oh, indeed! We'll soon see about that! I'll go straight from 'ere to that 'ouse, see if I don't I'll see his sister for myself this very night, so there!"
"Go it, Polly, you're welcome, my dear. You'll wake 'em up in Stanhope Gardens."
The waiter interrupted their colloquy. Gammon began to eat; Polly, heeding not the savoury dish, kept fierce eyes upon him.
"What d'you mean? Don't go stuffing like a pig but listen to me, and tell me what you're up to."
"You're talking about Lord P., ain't you?" asked Gammon in a lower voice.
"Course I am."
"And you think he was your uncle? So did I till a few days ago. Well, Polly, he wasn't. Lord P. didn't know you from Adam, nor your aunt either."
He chuckled, and ate voraciously. The artifice seemed to him better and better, enjoyment of it gave him a prodigious appetite.
"If you'll get on with your eating I'll tell you about it. Do you remember what I told you about the fellow Quodling in the City? Well, listen to this. Lord P. had another brother knocking about—you understand, a brother—like Quodling, who had no name of his own. And this brother, Polly, is your uncle Clover."
Miss Sparkes did not fail to understand, but she at once and utterly declined to credit the statement.