“Mad as a hatter,” he said. “They say he made a riot at the Rubicon Restaurant. Wanted to give a great banquet there to all the beggars in London.”
“Did you see him? Was he well? Was he unhappy? What have they done with him?”
“You mustn’t pelt me with questions, Chrissie. You mustn’t let your mind go on at such a pace. I told you in my letter I went up and saw him. They called him out and he came to me in a little room.”
“Where was it? Where was this workhouse?”
“There you go again. Just sit down and take things quietly, my girl. I can’t answer all these questions at once.”
“Where was it you saw him? Was it at Gifford Street?”
“Yes. Where else could it be? They was waiting to remove him.”
“Where?”
“Some asylum I suppose?”
“Cummerdown Hill?”