A little close, poor soul (as you know), about herself
and her doings. But a friend she has got somewhere, I can tell you; and
to that friend you may depend upon it, she will go."
"Soon?" asked the Sergeant.
"As soon as she can." says Mrs. Yolland.
Here I stepped in again from the door. As chief of my lady's
establishment, I couldn't allow this sort of loose talk about a servant
of ours going, or not going, to proceed any longer in my presence,
without noticing it.
"You must be mistaken about Rosanna Spearman," I said. "If she had been
going to leave her present situation, she would have mentioned it, in
the first place, to _me_."
"Mistaken?" cries Mrs. Yolland. "Why, only an hour ago she bought some
things she wanted for travelling--of my own self, Mr. Betteredge, in
this very room. And that reminds me," says the wearisome woman, suddenly
beginning to feel in her pocket, "of something I have got it on my mind
to say about Rosanna and her money. Are you either of you likely to see
her when you go back to the house?"
"I'll take a message to the poor thing, with the greatest pleasure,"
answered Sergeant Cuff, before I could put in a word edgewise.
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