At those words, Mrs. Farnaby abruptly stopped, and turned her face away from Amelius. After waiting a little, finding her still silent, still immovable, he ventured on putting a question.
“Are you sure you are not deceived?” he asked. “I remember you told me that rogues had tried to impose on you, in past times when you employed people to find her.”
“I have proof that I am not being imposed upon,” Mrs. Farnaby answered, still keeping her face hidden from him. “One of them knows of the fault in her foot.”
“One of them?” Amelius repeated. “How many of them are there?”
“Two. The old woman, and a young man.”
“What are their names?”
“They won’t tell me their names yet.”
“Isn’t that a little suspicious?”
“One of them knows,” Mrs. Farnaby reiterated, “of the fault in her foot.”
“May I ask which of them knows? The old woman, I suppose?”