"No, sir, there be not as I knows," said the driver.
"Or Mrs. Gordon, shall I say?"
The driver scratched his head.
"I never heard of her," he replied.
"How remarkable," said the bishop, smiling. "But I am not surprised. Indeed, in this last case I am almost gratified, though I withhold my reasons for saying so. Are you then acquainted with any one called De Vere? No; or with a Mrs. Carteret Williams?"
Light dawned in the driver's face at last. "Mrs. Williams! Ay, sure enif. She do sell sweets and tobacco."
"Indeed," said the bishop, "indeed, how remarkable! But I don't think she will do. Have you heard of a Mrs. Rivaulx or a Mrs. Goby? Perhaps I surprise you in this part of Lincolnshire, but in London it is not at all uncommon for married ladies to have several names, not at all uncommon."
"No, sir, I never heard o' none of 'em," returned the driver, thinking that this gentleman talked most remarkable "cat-blash."
"Good heavens!" said the bishop, "this new custom is trying. Do you then know a Mrs. Carew or Mrs. Bramber?"
Again the man scratched his head and shook it. What did this strange person in gaiters mean?