” “But how?” “I poured him out some port wine, and I said—let me see—oh, ‘You are going to be a grandfather!’” “Yes. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. The sing-song girl rose and meekly pattered out of the office into the night. The hansom sped through the crowded streets. Suspending his labour on Jack's appearance, the man demanded his business. " She wanted to dance. “We may just as well have our talk afterwards,” she said, “and I need not keep poor Mr.
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