'How do you mean?' said Lowe, looking up with a glance like a hawk.
'How! why I'll talk it over with Mrs. Sturk this evening.'
'Why, what has she got to tell?'
'Nothing, as I suppose; I'll see her to-day; there's nothing to tell;
but something, I think, to be done; it hasn't been set about rightly;
'tis a botched business hitherto--that's in _my_ judgment.'
'Yet 'tis rather a strong case,' answered Mr. Lowe, superciliously.
'Rather a strong case, so it is, but I'll clench it, Sir; it ought to be
certain.'
'Well, Sir?' said Lowe, who expected to hear more.
'Yes,' said Dangerfield, briskly, ''twill depend on _her; I'll_ suggest,
_she'll_ decide.'
'And why _she_, Sir?' said Lowe sharply.
'Because 'tis her business and her right, and no one else can,' answered
Dangerfield just as tartly, with his hands in his breeches' pockets, and
his head the least thing o' one side, and then with a bow, 'won't you
drink a glass of wine, Sir?' which was as much as to say, you'll get no
more from me.
'I thank you, Sir, no; 'tis a little too early for me.' And so with the
usual ceremonies, Mr.
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