"Very careless of him," continued Jan, with composure. "He had no business to carry gunpowder about with him. Of course they won't believe but he flung it in purposely."
Miss Deborah could not gather her senses. "Who won't?—the ladies at Chalk Cottage?"
"The ladies at Chalk Cottage," assented Jan. "If I saw all these bottles go to smithereens, through Cheese stowing gunpowder in his trousers' pockets, I might go into a passion too, Miss Deb."
"But, Mr. Jan—this is not what's being said in Deerham?"
"Law, if you go by all that's said in Deerham, you'll have enough to do," cried Jan. "One says one thing and one says another. No two are ever in the same tale. When that codicil was lost at Verner's Pride, ten different people were accused by Deerham of stealing it."
"Were they?" responded Miss Deborah abstractedly.
"Did you never hear it! You just ask Deerham about the row between the doctor and Chalk Cottage, and you'll hear ten versions, all different. What else could be expected? As if he'd take the trouble to explain the rights of it to them! Not that I should advise you to ask," concluded Jan pointedly. "Miss Deborah, do you know the time?"
"It must be half-past eight," she repeated mechanically, her thoughts buried in a reverie.
"And turned," said Jan. "I'd be glad of breakfast. I shall have the gratis patients here."
"It shall be ready in two minutes," said Miss Deborah meekly. And she went out of the surgery.