With
the intention of describing her to Gammon, Polly noticed that she
had a somewhat masculine nose, high in the bridge.
A quarter of an hour before the end of the piece Polly, dressed for
departure, came forth and discovered her faithful slave.
"Now listen to me," she said, checking his blandishments. "I told
you there might be something to do for me, and there is."
Parish was all eagerness.
"There'll be three people coming out from the stalls, a gentleman
and two ladies. I'll show you them--see? They'll drive off in a
kerridge--see? And I want you to find out where they go."
Nothing could have been more startling to Christopher, in whose mind
began a whirl of suspicions and fears.
"Why? What for?" he asked involuntarily.
Polly was short with him.
"All right, if you won't do it say so, and I'll ask somebody else.
I've no time to lose."
He gasped and stammered. Yes, yes, of course he would do it. He had
not dreamt of refusing. He would run after the carriage, however
far.
"Don't be a silly. You'll have to take a 'ansom and tell the driver
to follow--see?"
Yes, oh, yes, of course.
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