Dick made no answer. It was some moments before he spoke at all. Then, "Is she in England?" he said.
"I'm not at liberty, sir, to say where she is."
"You know, of course. I can see that in your face. Is she—— But perhaps you don't intend to answer any question I put to you."
"I think not, sir," said Lizzie firmly. "What would be the good? She don't want you, nor you——"
"Nor I her: it is true," he said. His face became very grave, almost stern. "I have little reason to wish to know. Still you must be aware that misery is the end of such a way of life."
"Oh, you need give yourself no trouble about that," cried Lizzie, with something like scorn; "she is a deal better off and more thought upon than ever she would have been if——"
"Poor girl!" he said. These words and the tone in which they were spoken stopped the quick little angry speech that was on Lizzie's lips. She wavered for a moment, then recovered herself.
"If you please," she said, "to take your matches, sir. It ain't general for gentlemen like you to come into granny's shop: and we think a deal of little things here. It is not as if we were—on the other side."
He laughed with a sort of fierce ridicule that offended the girl. "So—I might be supposed to be coming after you," he said.
She flung the matches to him across the counter. "There may be more difference here than there was there; but a gentleman, if he is a gentleman; will be civil wherever he is."