'Certainly I will, my dear,' replied the old woman, astonished not so much at the request, but at the vehemence of the emphasis laid upon the words. 'You're looking dreadfully worn out, my dear; I'll see to my boy.'
As soon as her request had been granted, Kate hesitated as if she feared she was doing wrong, and she looked at her husband, wondering if he would call her back.
But he took no heed; his attention was too entirely occupied by his breath to think either of her or of the necessity of sending for the police, and he waved his mother away when she attempted to speak to him.
'Are those men going to stop there all night?' Mrs. Ede asked.
'Oh, I really don't know; I'm too tired to bother about it any more,' replied Kate petulantly. 'It's all your fault—you're to blame for everything; you've no right to interfere with the lodgers in my house.'
Mrs. Ede raised her arms as she sought for words, but Kate walked out of the room without giving her time to answer. Suddenly a voice cried in a high key:
'Who do you take me for, Dick? I wasn't born yesterday. A devilish pretty woman, if you ask me. What hair!—like velvet!'
Kate stopped. 'Black hair,' she said to herself—'they must be talking of me,' and she listened intently.
The remark, however, did not appear to have been particularly well-timed, for after a long silence, a woman's voice said:
'Well, I don't know whether he liked her, and I don't care, but what I'm not going to do is to wait here listening to you all cracking up a landlady's good looks. I'm off.'