“Nor the doctor?”
“The doctor? No! It was my Tom Candlish!”
“Are you sure, gel?”
“I am now, gran’fa; I wasn’t then. I half thought it was the doctor, and I did hope it was him. It was so dark, I couldn’t quite be sure; and he stopped by the gate in the iron railings and looked about so that I daren’t go and make sure.”
“Phew!” whistled the old man, dropping his pipe and wiping his brow as the fragile stem broke into atoms. “And you there, Dally, watching?”
“Yes, gran’fa; for I was, oh, so jealous!”
“And you’re not sure now?”
“Yes I am, gran’fa; for I made sure.”
“You went again—in the middle of the night?”
“Yes, gran’fa. I got out of my bedroom window next time and went first.”