“Dear me!” exclaimed George Aspel, rather shocked at this sudden and unexpected termination of the narrative; “do you mean to say—”
“It strikes me,” interrupted Pax, looking pointedly at the door, “that you’ve got another visitor.”
Aspel turned and saw the dishevelled curls and pretty face of Tottie Bones in the doorway.
“Please, sir,” she said, entering, “I didn’t like to interrupt you, but Miss Lillycrop sent me to say that there was a strange smell of singein’ in the ’ouse, an’ would Mr Aspel be so kind as to come and try to find out where it was, as she didn’t understand such things.”
“Smell of singeing, child!” exclaimed Aspel, rising at once and putting on his coat and hat. “Did you search for the cause, especially about your kitchen fireplace?”
“O yes, sir,” exclaimed Tottie, “an’ we couldn’t see no cause at all—only the flue seemed to be ’otter than usual. We looked all over the ’ouse too, but couldn’t see nothink—but we could feel a most drefful smell.”
Desiring Mrs Murridge to call Mr Blurt to attend to the shop, George Aspel hurried out.
“Don’t try to keep up with us,” said Aspel to Tottie; “I must run. It may be fire!”
“Oh! please, sir, don’t leave me behind,” pleaded the child.
“All right—we won’t; kitch hold of my hand; give the other to Mr Aspel,” said Peter Pax.