‘Well, say on,’ said he impatiently.
‘But I cant say it here,’ was the reply.
‘I suppose,’ said the Baronet, ‘you want some money? There is half a crown,’ continued he, hastily tossing it her. ‘But don’t spend it in beer, my good woman; you have had too much already.’
‘No, ’tis not money. I can tell yer honour something you would like to know.’
‘Much obliged, I am sure; but I fear you are labouring under a delusion.’
‘No, no, Sir Watkin.’
‘You’re drunk, I tell you. Be off, or I’ll give you in charge.’
‘Me drunk, Sir Watkin? A poor lone widow as has lived respectable in Sloville for years, though unfortunate, but that is neither here nor there. Me drunk? No, no, Sir Watkin!’
‘But I tell you you are, my good woman.’
‘Drunk or sober, Sir Watkin, you must listen to me.’