Mrs. Dove. At the time of the young lady’s disappearance there remained a small balance in my favour on her account, for extra’s, and of which I think it probable that Mr. Lynx is not aware.
Dove. Eight pound odd.
Mrs. Dove. Pounds, dear—speak in the plural.
Dove. Pounds, love?
Mrs. Ly. I’m in a maze—bewildered—who can this girl have been? Did she—did she seem attached to him?
Mrs. Dove. Very.
Dove. He called once, and I happened to enter the room quite promiscuously where they was.
Mrs. Dove. Where they were; I was—they were.
Dove. Where they were; and I saw the young lady a dissolving away into tears upon his shoulder; I was then Mrs. D’s. footman!
Mrs. Dove. Henry!