"Yes, Jack Tuff did tell it me," retorted Mrs. Bent. "I stayed at the door looking for you till half after twelve. And a tidy state he was in!" added the good lady in additional wrath. "His nose touching the ground, a'most every step he took!"
"Just let me come in, Dorothy. I've not stayed out all this while for pleasure--as you may be sure."
"You've stayed for aggravation perhaps; to keep people up. Where's Mr. Anthony Castlemaine?"
"He's come home, isn't he?"
"I dare say you know very well whether he is or not!" returned Mrs. Bent from her window.
"But Dorothy, woman, it is for him I've been waiting. He went into the Friar's Keep, and he's never come out again--unless he came when I did not see him."
"The Friar's Keep!" repeated the landlady, in the most mocking tone she could use. "What excuse will you invent next?"
"It's no excuse: it's true. We saw Mr. Castlemaine go in there, and Mr. Anthony ran over and followed him, saying he'd have out the quarrel under the moonlight. And I stood cooling my heels outside, waiting for him all that while; till at last I began to think he must have come out and passed me unseen. He has come home, has he not?"
"He is not come home," said Mrs. Bent.
"Well, let the door be opened."