“Hullo! madame, I came to tell you some news,” said he, as soon as the door was closed. “But, by the makins! you ’most took my breath away at first sight o’ ye.”
“Pity to have so nice a man breathless—deplorable pity!”—or biddy, as she pronounced it. “Suppose you go away. I did not ask you to come and get your breath again in the air of my place.”
“What place may that be—not Hoxton Old Town, hey?”
“Not at all—Wyvern, dear child?” she said, with a quiet sneer.
“Oh, thank ye—yes—well I will, I think, take a mouthful there as you are so good.”
As he concluded this speech Master Harry put out his tongue at the blind lady with a grimace that was outrageous.
“I’ll hide my name no longer,” she said, “I’m Mrs. Fairfield of Wyvern.”
“That’s as it may be,” he answered, serenely.
“I say, I’m Mrs. Fairfield of Wyvern,” repeated she.
“Boo!” answered Harry.