"Oh, it's too true," she said, "it's too true. He did say some extraordinary things to-night, Mr. Todd, and he said he had something to tell, which was too horrid to speak of. Now the idea, you know, Mr. Todd, of anybody having anything at all to tell, and not telling it at once, is quite singular."
"It is!—and I am sure that his conduct is such you never would be guilty of, Mrs. Ragg;—but hark! what's that?"
"It's a knock, Mr. Todd."
"Hush, stop a moment—what if it be Tobias?"
"Gracious goodness! it can't be him, for he would have come in at once."
"No; I slipped the bolt of the door, because I wished to talk to you without observation; so it may be Tobias, you perceive, after all. But let me hide somewhere, so that I may hear what he says, and be able to judge how his mind is affected. I will not hesitate to do something for him, let it cost what it may."
"There's the cupboard, Mr. Todd. To be sure there is some dirty saucepans and a frying-pan in it, and of course it aint a fit place to ask you to go into."
"Never mind that—never mind that; only you be careful, for the sake of Tobias's very life, to keep secret that I am here."
The knocking at the door increased each moment in vehemence, and scarcely had Sweeney Todd succeeded in getting into the cupboard along with Mrs. Ragg's pots and pans, and thoroughly concealed himself, when she opened the door; and, sure enough—Tobias, heated, tired, and looking ghastly pale—staggered into the room.
"Mother," he said, "I have taken a new thought, and have come back to you."