She had given her gown a good shake from the rain-drops in the middle of the kitchen, and was now seated before the fire. The clerk stood by the table, occasionally snuffing the candle, and wishing she'd take herself off again. "Where's Nancy gone?" asked she. "I didn't hear her say." "And she'll be gone a month of Sundays, I suppose. I shan't wait for her, if the rain gives over." "You'd be more comfortable in the small parlour," said the clerk, who seemed rather fidgety; "there's a nice bit of fire there." "I'm more comfortable here," contradicted Mrs. Jones. "Where's the good of a bit of fire for a gown as wet as mine?" Jabez Gum made no response. There was the lady, a fixture; and he could only resign himself to the situation. "How's your friend at the next house--Pike?" she began again sarcastically. "He's no friend of mine," said the clerk. "It looks like it, at all events; or you'd have given him into custody long ago. _I_ wouldn't let a man harbour himself so close to me. He's taken to a new dodge now: going about with a pistol to shoot people." "Who says so?" asked the clerk. "I say so. He frighted that boy Ripper pretty near to death. The boy tore home one night in a state of terror, and all they could get out of him was that he'd met Pike with a pistol. It's weeks ago, and he hasn't got over it yet." "Did Pike level it at him?" "I tell you that's all they could get out of the boy. He's a nice jail-bird too, that young Rip, unless I'm mistaken. They might as well send him away, and make room for our Jim." "I think you are about the most fanciful, unjust, selfish woman in Calne!" exclaimed the clerk, unable to keep down his anger any longer. "You'd take young Ripper's character away without scruple, just because his place might suit your Jim!" "I'm what?" shrieked Mrs. Jones. "I'm unjust, am I--" An interruption occurred, and Mrs. Jones subsided into silence. The back-door suddenly opened, not a couple of yards from that lady's head, and in came Mrs. Gum in her ordinary indoor dress, two basins in her hand. The sight of her visitor appeared to occasion her surprise; she uttered a faint scream, and nearly dropped the basins. "Lawk a mercy! Is it Lydia Jones?" Mrs. Jones had been drawing a quiet deduction--the clerk had said his wife was out only to deceive her. She rose from her chair, and faced him. "I thought you told me she was gone out?" The clerk coughed. He looked at his wife, as if asking an explanation. The meeker of the two women hastily put her basins down, and stood looking from one to the other, apparently recovering breath. "Didn't you go out?" asked the clerk. "I was going, Gum, but stepped out first to collect my basins, and then the rain came down. I had to shelter under the wood-shed, it was peppering so." "Collect your basins!" interjected Mrs. Jones. "Where from?" "I put them out with scraps for the cats."