CHAPTER CIV.
MRS. OAKLEY SEES A STRANGE SIGHT, AND THINKS THERE IS NO PLACE LIKE HOME.
"What's that, eh?" added Lupin.
Mrs. Oakley sank flat upon the floor in a moment; she thought that now surely her last hour was come.
"I thought I heard a noise. Did you, Jane?" added Lupin.
"I didn't hear anything," said the woman. "It's your conscience, old boy, that makes you hear all sorts of things. You know you are a hard one, and no mistake. You know, there ain't exactly your equal in London for a vagabond. But come, hand out the cash, for I ain't particularly fond of your company, nor you of mine, I take it."
"It must have been imagination," muttered Lupin, still alluding to the noise he had heard or fancied he had heard. "It must have been imagination, and the wind at night does certainly make odd noises in the chapel at times, know."
"Bother the noises. Give me the money, and let me go, I say. Come, be quick about it, or else I shall think of some way of helping myself, and you know when I begin, that I am apt to be rather troublesome."
"A little," said Lupin. "Just a little. But as I was saying, Jane—you and I together might make a fortune quite easily. You are a clever woman."
"Am I really? When did you find that out, you old rogue?"
"Really, Jane, it is difficult to talk with you while you are in such a humour. Come, will you take something to drink? Say you will, and you shall have the very best I can get you. Only you must promise to take it in moderation, and not get much the worse for it, Jane."