“Not at all. “He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know. She followed Oxford Street into Holborn, and then she inquired for Chancery Lane. Plote was sleeping or deaf. Yet there was nothing for her to do. “You poor thing. The Victoria was Ah Cum's bread and butter. So Monday, when I see one of the maids come out with a basket, for to go fetch summat for that other Frenchie—the female as I told you about, miss, as is forever coming and going with the nobs. Twice Spurlock went to Copeley's—twenty miles to the northwest—for ice and mail.
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