'May we come in, Mrs. Costrell?' Saunders inquired, in his most
deliberate voice.

'If yer want to,' said Bessie, shortly, taking out a cup and drying it.

Saunders drew in the other two and shut the door.

'Sit down, John. Sit down, Mrs. Waller.'

John did as he was told. Dishevelled and hopeless misery spoke in his
stained face, his straggling hair, his shirt burst open at the neck and
showing his wrinkled throat. But he fixed his eyes passionately on
Saunders, thirsting for every word.

'Well, Mrs. Costrell,' said Saunders, settling himself comfortably,
'you'll be free to confess, won't yer, this is an oogly business--a very
oogly business? Now, will yer let us ask yer a question or two?'

'I dessay,' said Bessie, polishing her cup.

'Well, then--to begin reg'lar, Mrs. Costrell--yo agree, don't yer, as
Muster Bolderfield put his money in your upstairs cupboard?'

'I agree as he put his box there,' said Bessie sharply.

John broke into inarticulate and abusive clamour.

Bessie turned upon him.

''Ow did any of us know what yer'd got in your box? Did yer ever show it