Luckily he could absent himself
from Quodlings' to-day with no great harm; so after a few words with
Mrs. Bubb he pulled on his greatcoat and set off by the speediest
way. Only after starting did he remember his promise to Polly. That
could not be helped. The case seemed to be urgent, and he must beg
for indulgence. He had an appointment with Polly for six o'clock
this evening. In the excitement of decisive action (it being the
last day of the year) she would probably overlook this small matter.
He found Mrs. Clover in the shop. She reddened at sight of him, and
after a hurried greeting asked him to step into the parlour, where
she carefully closed the door.
"Mr. Gammon, have you heard anything about my husband?"
The question disconcerted him; he tried ineffectually to shape a
denial.
"You have, I can see you have! It doesn't matter. I don't want you
to tell me anything. But he's now in this house."
She was greatly agitated, not angry, but beset by perplexities and
distress.
"He came last night about ten o'clock--came to the door wrapped up
like a stranger--it was almost too much for me when I heard his
voice.
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