"Yes," she answered, wondering.
"Knowed it was. And a partic'ler fine gal too! Though not 'oldin' wi' marridge, I don't blame the Guv—'e always 'ad a quick eye for beauty—like me."
"But who are you? What do you want—"
"Miss, I want you—leastways—'e does. Been callin' for you the last three days 'e has, ever since 'e ketched one as fair doubled 'im up—"
"I—I don't understand. Who are you?"
"A admirer of the Guv, ma'am. A trusted friend of 'is, miss—come t' take ye to 'is poor, yearnin' arms, lady—"
"But who—oh, what do you mean?"
"Mr. Ravenslee, ma'am."
"Mr. Ravenslee!" she echoed, her colour changing.
"Yes. Y' see—he's dyin', miss!"