"Did she, Adam?"
"Ah!—'why did 'e do it?' says she—'well, to keep it from bein' took away, p'raps,' says I—sharp as any gimblet, sir."
"Good!" nodded Bellew.
"Ah!—but it weren't no good, sir," returned Adam, "because she sez as 'ow your 'ome being in America, you couldn't really need the furnitur',—nor yet want the furnitur',—an' blest if she wasn't talkin' of handing you the money back again."
"Hum!" said Bellew.
"Seeing which, sir, an' because she must have that money if she 'opes to keep the roof of Dapplemere over 'er 'ead, I, there an' then, made up,—or as you might say,—concocted a story, a anecdote, or a yarn,—upon the spot, Mr. Belloo sir."
"Most excellent Machiavelli!—proceed!"
"I told her, sir, as you bought that furnitur' on account of you being wishful to settle down,—whereat she starts, an' looks at me wi' her eyes big, an' surprised-like. I told 'er, likewise, as you had told me on the quiet,—or as you might say,—con-fi-dential, that you bought that furnitur' to set up 'ouse-keeping on account o' you being on the p'int o' marrying a fine young lady up to Lonnon,—"
"What!" Bellew didn't move, nor did he raise his voice,—nevertheless
Adam started back, and instinctively threw up his arm.
"You—told her—that?"