"Wull," he said, "you be late! And 'ow's Giles?"
He did not dare to ask for Sue. His hope—for he had a hope—was that Sue had come back without ever discovering the locket which he had transferred to her pocket. In that case he might somehow manage to get it away again without her knowing anything whatever with regard to his vile conduct. If God was good enough for that, why, then indeed He was a good God, and Harris would follow Him to his dying day. He would go to the preacher and tell him that henceforth he meant to be a religious, church-going man, and that never again would a drop of drink pass his lips. He had spent an afternoon and evening in the most frightful remorse, but up to the present he had not the most remote intention of saving Sue at his own expense. If only she had escaped unsuspected, then indeed he would be good; but if it were otherwise he felt that the very devils of hell might enter into his heart.
"'Ow's Giles? 'Ow did he take yer comin' 'ome again, wench?"
"Oh father," said Connie, panting slightly, and causing the man to gaze at her with wide-open, bloodshot eyes, "Giles is wery, wery bad—I 'ad to send for the doctor. 'E come, and 'e said—ah! 'e said as 'ow little Giles 'ud soon be leavin' us. I can't—can't speak on it!"
Connie sat down and covered her face with her hands. Harris drew a breath at once of relief and suspicion. He was sorry, of course, for little Giles; but then, the kid couldn't live, and he had nothing to do with his death. It was Sue he was thinking about. Of course Sue was there, or Connie would have mentioned the fact of her not having returned home.
Connie wept on, overcome by the strange emotions and experiences through which she had so lately passed.
"Connie," said her father at last, when he could bear the suspense no longer, "Sue must be in great takin'—poor Sue!"
"But, father," said Connie, suddenly suppressing her tears, "that's the most dreadful part of all—Sue ain't there!"
"Not there? Not to 'ome?" thundered Harris.
"No, father—she ha' niver come back. It's goin' on for twelve o'clock—an' Giles expected her soon arter six! She ain't come back, 'ave Sue. Wottever is to be done, father?"