Mrs. Quiggin drew up suddenly. “What’s his name?” she asked sharply.
“Nay, how could I ask him that?” said Jenny.
“Where does he live?” said Mrs. Quiggin.
“Or that either?” said Jenny.
Mrs. Quiggin’s eyes wandered slowly back to the window. “We’ve all got our troubles, Jenny,” she said quietly.
“All,” said Jenny. “I wonder if I shall ever see him again.”
“Tell me if you do, Jenny?” said Mrs. Quiggin.
“I will, Nelly,” said Jenny.
“Poor fellow, poor fellow,” said Mrs. Quiggin.
As Jenny rose to remove her bonnet she shot a sly glance out of the corners of her eyes, and saw that Mrs. Quiggin was furtively wiping her own.