Shabby!"
"Very shabby!" agreed Gilling. "Well, you won't find my clients quite so
mean, ma'am. But just a word--don't mention this matter to anybody until
you hear from me. And as I like to give some earnest of payment here's a
bank-note which you can slip into your purse--on account, you understand.
Now, just a question or two:--Did you hear the young man's name?"
The landlady, whose spirits rose visibly on receipt of the bank-note,
appeared to reflect on hearing this question, and she shook her head as
if surprised at her own inability to answer it satisfactorily.
"Well, now," she said, "it may seem a queer thing to say, but I don't
recollect that I ever did! You see, I didn't see much of him after he
once got here. I was never in his room with them, and they didn't mention
his name--that I can remember--when they spoke about him before me. I
understood he was a relative--cousin or something of that sort."
"Didn't you see any name on the coffin?" asked Gilling.
"I didn't," replied Mrs. Salmon. "You see, the undertaker fetched him
away when him and his men brought the coffin--the next day. He took
charge of the coffin for the second night, and the funeral took place
from there. But I'll tell you what--the undertaker'll know the name, and
of course the doctor does. They're both close by."
Gilling took names and addresses and once more pledging the landlady to
secrecy, led Copplestone away.
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