'
'So she's grown up. Did you ever hear about that old man having a
lot of money?'
'Why, my dear, I never heard nothing but what them Peckovers talked
at the time. But there was a son of his turned up as seemed to have
some money. He married Mrs. Peckover's daughter.'
Clara expressed surprise.
'A son of his? Not the girl's father?
'Yes; her father. I don't know nothing about his history. It's for
him, or partly for him, as I'm workin' now, Clara. The firm's Lake,
Snowdon & Go.'
'Why didn't you mention it before?'
'I don't hardly know, my dear.'
She looked at him, aware that something was being kept back.
'Tell me about the girl. What does she do?'
'She goes to work, I believe; but I haven't heard much about her
since a good time. Sidney Kirkwood's a friend of her grandfather. He
often goes there, I believe.'
'What is she like?' Clara asked, after a pause. 'She used to be such
a weak, ailing thing, I never thought she'd grow up. What's she like
to look at?'
'I can't tell you, my dear. I don't know as ever I see her since
those times.'
Again a silence.
'Then it's Mr. Kirkwood that has told you what you know of her?'
'Why, no.
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