"
Rachel straightened herself.
"But surely not without telling Mrs. Maldon?"
Mr. Batchgrew fingered his immense whiskers.
"Is she better?" he inquired threateningly. This was his first sign of
interest in Mrs. Maldon's condition.
"Oh, yes; much. She's going on very well. The doctor's just been."
"Is she asleep?"
"She's resting. She may be asleep."
"Did ye tell her ye hadn't found her money?"
"Yes."
"What did she say?"
"She didn't say anything."
"It might be municipal money, for all she seems to care!" remarked
Thomas Batchgrew, with a short, bitter grin. "Well, I'll be moving to
th' police-station. I've never come across aught like this before, and
I'm going to get to the bottom of it."
Rachel slipped out of the door into the hall.
"Please wait a moment, Mr. Batchgrew," she whispered timidly.
"What for?"
"Till I've told Mrs. Maldon."
"But if her's asleep?"
"I must waken her. I couldn't think of letting you go to the
police-station without letting her know--after what she said this
morning."
Rachel waited. Mr. Batchgrew glanced aside.
"Here! Come here!" said Mr. Batchgrew in a different tone. The fact
was that, put to the proof, he dared not, for all his autocratic
habit, openly disobey the injunction of the benignant, indifferent,
helpless Mrs.
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