Mrs. Skinner unmasked an eye at him as she led the way towards the barn. “Of course, Sir, there may ‘ave been a little, in a little can of Nicey I give his father to bring over from the farm, or a little perhaps what I happened to bring about with me, so to speak. Me packing in a hurry and all ...”
“Um!” said Redwood, after he had cluckered to the infant for a space. “Oom!”
He told Mrs. Caddles the baby was a very fine child indeed, a thing that was getting well home to her intelligence—and he ignored her altogether after that. Presently she left the barn—through sheer insignificance.
“Now you’ve started him, you’ll have to keep on with him, you know,” he said to Mrs. Skinner.
He turned on her abruptly. “Don’t splash it about this time,” he said.
“Splash it about, Sir?”
“Oh! you know.”
She indicated knowledge by convulsive gestures.
“You haven’t told these people here? The parents, the squire and so on at the big house, the doctor, no one?”
Mrs. Skinner shook her head.