"It's my 'usband, miss," said the Amazon, reluctantly releasing the flushed and dishevelled Richard; "'e left me and my five eighteen months ago. For eighteen months I 'aven't 'ad a sight of 'is blessed face."
She lifted the hem of her apron to her face and broke into discordant weeping.
"Don't cry," said Prudence, softly; "I'm sure he isn't worth it."
Mr. Catesby looked at her wanly. He was beyond further astonishment, and when Mrs. Truefitt entered the room with a laudable attempt to twist her features into an expression of surprise, he scarcely noticed her.
"It's my Joe," said Mrs. Porter, simply.
"Good gracious!" said Mrs. Truefitt. "Well, you've got him now; take care he doesn't run away from you again."
"I'll look after that, ma'am," said Mrs. Porter, with a glare at the startled Richard.
"She's very forgiving," said Prudence. "She kissed him just now."