“Come in,” said a very weak but sweet little voice, as though doors in that region were usually rapped at in that fashion.
Lifting the latch and entering, Aspel found himself confronted by Tottie Bones in her native home.
It was a very small, desolate, and dirty home, and barely rendered visible by a thin “dip” stuck into an empty pint-bottle.
Tottie opened her large eyes wide with astonishment, then laid one of her dirty little fingers on her rosy lips and looked imploringly at her visitor. Thus admonished, he spoke, without knowing why in a subdued voice.
“You are surprised to see me, Tottie?”
“I’m surprised at nothink, sir. ’Taint possible to surprise me with anythink in this life.”
“D’you expect to be surprised by anything in any other life, Tottie?” asked Aspel, more amused by the air of the child than by her answer.
“P’r’aps. Don’t much know, and don’t much care,” said Tottie.
“Well, I’ve come to ask something,” said the youth, sitting down on a low box for the convenience of conversation, “and I hope, Tottie, that you’ll tell me the truth. Here’s a half-crown for you. The truth, mind, whether you think it will please me or not; I don’t want to be pleased—I want the truth.”
“I’d tell you the truth without that,” said Tottie, eyeing the half-crown which Aspel still held between his fingers, “but hand it over. We want a good many o’ these things here, bein’ pretty hard up at times.”