"
What, in God's name, was I to say to him? I knew the shrubbery was Mr.
Franklin's favourite walk; I knew he would most likely turn that way
when he came back from the station; I knew that Penelope had over and
over again caught her fellow-servant hanging about there, and had always
declared to me that Rosanna's object was to attract Mr. Franklin's
attention. If my daughter was right, she might well have been lying in
wait for Mr. Franklin's return when the Sergeant noticed her. I was put
between the two difficulties of mentioning Penelope's fanciful notion
as if it was mine, or of leaving an unfortunate creature to suffer the
consequences, the very serious consequences, of exciting the suspicion
of Sergeant Cuff. Out of pure pity for the girl--on my soul and my
character, out of pure pity for the girl--I gave the Sergeant the
necessary explanations, and told him that Rosanna had been mad enough to
set her heart on Mr. Franklin Blake.
Sergeant Cuff never laughed. On the few occasions when anything amused
him, he curled up a little at the corners of the lips, nothing more. He
curled up now.
"Hadn't you better say she's mad enough to be an ugly girl and only
a servant?" he asked.
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