"But perhaps I can afford it. Yes, you may have it yes, I say, you shall
have it. Don't forget to leave that card on Peckham--he's a moneyed man.
There's a ring at the bell. Who is it? run and see."

Mrs. Poole obeyed with great activity, considering her interesting
condition. She came back in half a minute. "Oh, my Adolphus--I oh, my
Samuel! it is that dreadful-looking man who was here the other evening--
stayed with you so long. I don't like his looks at all. Pray don't be
at home."

"I must," said Poole, turning a shade paler, if that were possible.
"Stop--don't let that girl go to the door; and you--leave me." He
snatched his hat and gloves, and putting aside the parlour-maid, who had
emerged from the shades below in order to answer the "ring," walked
hastily down the small garden.

Jasper Losely was stationed at the little gate. Jasper was no longer in
rags, but he was coarsely clad--clad as if he had resigned all pretence
to please a lady's eye, or to impose upon a West-End tradesman--a check
shirt--a rough pea-jacket, his hands buried in its pockets.

Poole started with well--simulated surprise. "What, you! I am just
going to my office--in a great hurry at present."

"Hurry or not, I must and will speak to you," said Jasper, doggedly.

"What now? then, step in;--only remember I can't give you snore than five
minutes."