Very
puzzling all this. How on earth came it that Mrs. Peckover kept the
child so long, and didn't send her to the workhouse? If I'm to
believe _her_, she took a motherly kindness for the poor brat. But
that won't exactly go down with J. J. Snowdon; he's seen a bit too
much in his knocking about the world, Still, what if I'm making a
mistake about the old woman? There _are_ some people do things of
that sort; upon my soul, I've known people be kind even to me,
without a chance of being paid back! You may think you know a man or
a woman, and then all at once they'll go and do something you'd have
taken your davy couldn't possibly happen. I'd have sworn she was
nothing but a skinflint and a lying old witch. And so she maybe; the
chances are there's some game going on that I can't see through.
Make inquiries? Why, so I have done, as far as I know how. I've only
been able to hit on one person who knows anything about the matter,
and he tells me it's true enough the girl was taken away about three
years ago, but he's no idea where she went to. Surely the old man
must be dead b now, though he _was_ tough. Well, the fact of the
matter is, I've got a good berth, and I'm a precious sight too lazy
to go on the private detective job.
Pages:
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257