At the end of a minute a quiet, very old-looking woman in black, with white cap and old-fashioned muslin cross-over, came to the door.
“Go and tell Miss Gertrude I am waiting to see her again.”
“She is with master, sir.”
“Well, go and tell her, Mrs Denton.”
The woman shook her head.
“I dare not, sir. It would send master into a fit of fury.”
“Pish! Never mind; I’ll wait. How is he?”
The woman shook her head, lifted her white apron, and applied a corner to her eyes.
“None of that, Mrs Denton,” said Saul Harrington, with a sneering laugh. “So fond of him, eh?”
“Yes, sir. Dear old master.”