“Yes; go on, my good woman, go on. Is there anything fresh?”
“Oh, yes, sir,” said the woman, putting her apron to her eyes. “I know all about his love troubles from the first.”
“Yes, yes.”
“And how he was disappointed about having Miss Jerrold.”
“Well?”
“And then, sir, when at last it was to come off, you see it was too much for him.”
“And he has turned a little ill. There, he will soon be better.”
“I hope so, sir,” said Mrs Brade, shaking her head, “but I’m afraid.”
“Look here, you have seen or heard something to account, perhaps, for his sudden illness.”
“Don’t call it illness, sir; the poor dear gentleman is mad.”