“Well!” exclaimed Mrs Glaire, impatiently.
“Well, mum, I goes round by Kitty Rawson’s corner, and out back way, and I come upon Master Richard wi’ his arm round Daisy Banks’s waist.”
“Now, Jacky,” exclaimed Mrs Glaire, with a hysterical sob, “if this is not the truth I’ll never, never forgive you.”
“Truth, mum,” said Jacky, in an ill-used tone. “I’ve been clerk here a matter o’ twenty year, and my father and grandfather before me, and would I tell a lie, do you think? Speak the truth without fear or favour. Amen.”
“Go away now,” cried Mrs Glaire, sharply.
“Wean’t I water all the plants, mum?”
“No; go away, and if you say a word to a soul about this, I’ll never forgive you, Jacky, never.”
“Thanky, mum, thanky,” said Jacky, turning to go, and nearly trampling on Prince.
“No, come here!” exclaimed Mrs Glaire, whose face was working. “Go round to the foundry, and tell Joe Banks I want to speak to him. Tell him I’m in the garden.”
“Yes, mum.”