"Just go in to Mrs. Fores, will you? Something's the matter
with her. It's nothing, but I have to go out."
Mrs. Tams answered, trembling: "Nay, mester, I'm none going to
interfere. I go into no parlour."
"But I tell you she's fainting."
"Ye'd happen better look after her yerself, Mr. Louis," said Mrs. Tams
in a queer voice.
"But don't you understand I've got to go out?"
He was astounded and most seriously disconcerted by Mrs. Tams's very
singular behaviour.
"If ye'll excuse me being so bold, sir," said Mrs. Tams, "ye ought
for be right well ashamed o' yeself. And that I'll say with my dying
breath."
She dropped on to the hard Windsor chair, and, lifting her apron,
began to whimper.
Louis could feel himself blushing.
"It seems to me you'd better look out for a fresh situation," he
remarked curtly, as he turned to leave the kitchen.
"Happen I had, mester," Mrs. Tams agreed sadly; and then with fire:
"But I go into no parlour. You get back to her, mester. Going out
again at this time o' night, and missis as her is! If you stop where a
husband ought for be, her'll soon mend, I warrant."
He went back, cursing all women, because he had no alternative but to
go back.
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