“Charlie Newcome, my first master; they had a quarrel the day I was stolen.”
“That must be nearly two years ago?” said the pin.
“Just,” said I. “Do tell me what has happened since then.”
“It’s a long story,” said the pin.
“Never mind, we’ve nothing else to do here,” I said encouragingly.
“Well,” said the pin, “the night you were lost Tom never turned up at home at all.”
“He was utterly drunk,” I said, by way of explanation.
“Don’t you interrupt,” said the pin, “or I won’t tell you anything.”
I was silenced.
“Tom never turned up at all until the next morning; and he sat all that day in his chair, and did nothing but look at the wall in front of him.”