"Don' know about that. Well, fire away, Miss Rotha. What you want?"
Rotha went first to the door and shut it. Then came back and stood by the table where Lesbia was lighting the gas drop.
"Lesbia, I want you to tell me— You always open the door, don't you?"
"'Cept when I aint there."
"But in the evenings you do?"
"I'm pretty likely to, miss—if it aint my evening out."
"I want you to tell me—" Rotha lowered her voice to a whisper,—"if Mr.
Southwode has been here lately?"
Lesbia stood silent, considering.
"You know him? You know Mr. Southwode?"
"He brought you here the fust, didn't he?"