"But, indeed, I don't like it. He's so very circumstantial. He says his mother told him she'd take him back to Mrs. Pemberton's, only his father won't let her. Who is Mrs. Pemberton?"
"I don't know. Some lodging-house keeper, no doubt."
"Well, I don't know what ought to be done. There is no chance of the child going to sleep soon, and either he is raving or--or--or--" the girl's voice trembled--"something very dreadful indeed has occurred here. The child cannot certainly be left alone now." She looked around her with apprehension. She was pale and trembling.
"You seem uneasy, Hetty."
"I am terrified."
"I assure you the child has been dreaming, that is all. It is quite a common thing, I have read, for children to believe what they see in dreams has real existence."
"O, talking in that way is no use. I am miserable and frightened out of my wits, Philip."
"What would you wish me to do?"
"I think you had better go for Mr. Bramwell."
"Very well."