“It is well keered for, and it's gorn to a pusson I can trust.”
“Then what have you got to conceal? Tell me where it is, and——”
“Not me! If it's 'is child, and 'e wants it, let 'im py for it, and interest ep ter dite. Them swells is too fond of gettin' parsons to pull their chestnuts out o' the fire.”
“If you suppose I am here in the interests of the father, you are mistaken, I do assure you.”
“Ow, you do, do yer?”
Matters had reached this pass when the door opened and Mr. Jupe came in. Off went his hat with a respectful salutation, but seeing the cloud on his wife's face, he abridged his greeting. The woman's apron was at her eyes in an instant.
“Wot's gowin' on?” he asked. John Storm tried to explain, but the woman contented herself with crying.
“Well, it's like this, don'cher see, Father. My missis is that fond of childring, and it brikes 'er 'eart——”
Was the man a fool or a hypocrite?
“Mr. Jupe,” said John, rising, “I'm afraid your wife has been carrying on an improper and illegal business.”