Moody. And now we'll get to business!" He turned round to
the dog still barking at his heels. "Business, Puggy!" he called out
sharply, and Puggy instantly shut up his mouth, and said no more.
"Well, now," Old Sharon resumed when he had joined his friends and had
got his breath again, "let's have a little talk about yourself, miss.
Has Mr. Moody told you who I am, and what I want with you? Very good.
May I offer you my arm? No! You like to be independent, don't you? All
right--I don't object. I am an amiable old man, I am. About this Lady
Lydiard, now? Suppose you tell me how you first got acquainted with
her?"
In some surprise at this question, Isabel told her little story.
Observing Sharon's face while she was speaking, Moody saw that he was
not paying the smallest attention to the narrative. His sharp, shameless
black eyes watched the girl's face absently; his gross lips curled
upwards in a sardonic and self-satisfied smile. He was evidently setting
a trap for her of some kind. Without a word of warning--while Isabel was
in the middle of a sentence--the trap opened, with the opening of Old
Sharon's lips.
"I say," he burst out. "How came _you_ to seal her Ladyship's
letter--eh?"
The question bore no sort of relation, direct or indirect, to what
Isabel happened to be saying at the moment. In the sudden surprise of
hearing it, she started and fixed her eyes in astonishment on Sharon's
face. The old vagabond chuckled to himself. "Did you see that?" he
whispered to Moody.
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