'Per'aps,' he said slowly, 'Mrs. Costrell will do us the favour ov lettin us hexamine that 'ere cupboard?'
He walked across to it. Bessie's hand dropped; she turned sharply, supporting herself against the table, and watched him, her chest heaving.
'There's no key 'ere,' said Saunders, stooping to look at the lock. 'Try yours, John.'
John rushed forward, but Bessie put herself in the way.
'What are yer meddlin with my 'ouse for?' she said fiercely. 'Just mek yourselves scarce, all the lot o' yer! I don't know nothin about his money, an I'll not have yer insultin me in my own place! Get out o' my kitchen, if yo please!'
Saunders buttoned his coat.
'Sartinly, Mrs. Costrell, sartinly,' he said, with emphasis. 'Come along, John. Yer must get Watson and put it in 'is hands. 'Ee's the law is Watson. Maybe, as Mrs. Costrell ull listen to 'im.'
Mary Anne ran to Bessie in despair.
'O Bessie, Bessie, my dear—don't let 'em get Watson; let 'em look into't theirselves—it'll be better for yer, my dear, it will.'
Bessie looked from one to the other, panting. Then she turned back to the table.