She had told all she knew, and it was useless to question her farther upon the subject, so I put it aside for a moment, with the intention of talking it over with Bob when we were alone. But I had not yet done with Sophy; before I parted with her for the night I was desirous of obtaining fuller information of Dr. Peterssen's establishment than she had given Bob. She was perfectly willing to tell everything she knew, and seemed to be relieved to have her attention turned to other matters. "You had the run of Dr. Peterssen's house, Sophy?" "Yes, I 'ad." "How many servants are there in it?" "Only one--the keeper." "What is his name?" "Crawley." "Did no woman come to do the cleaning or cooking?" "Nobody come. Crawley did everythink." "You were not ill-treated?" "Oh, no." "Did you have your meals alone?" "No; the three of us 'ad 'em together." "The three of you. Dr. Peterssen, Crawley, and you?" "No; Dr. Peterssen never 'ad nothink with us. I mean the other patient." "But there was more than one?" "There wasn't while I was there. There was only one." I turned to Bob. "You said there were children, Bob?" "So I was informed, but I may have been misled." "I 'eerd Crawley say the young 'uns were took away the day before I come," said Sophy. "That explains it. So there was only one patient left?" "Only one." "A man?" "A gentleman." "How did you find out he was a gentleman?" "Yer can't be mistook between a man and a gent. You're a gent; Mr. Tucker's another." "Much obliged, Sophy," said Bob. "What is the name of the gentleman patient, Sophy?" "He didn't 'ave none that I know of. I 'eered the greengrocer's boy say to Crawley once, 'Ow's Number One, Mr. Crawley?' That's how I got to know 'ow he was called, and what the keeper's name was. I couldn't arks nothink, of course, 'cause I was deaf and dumb. 'Same as ever,' said Crawley to the boy, 'mem'ry quite gone.'" "Poor fellow! There is no doubt, I suppose, about his being mad?" "I don't know about that. He never did nothink, and 'ardly ever spoke a word. But he was very kind to me, and I was very sorry for 'im. He'd put 'is 'and on my 'ead, and smooth my 'air, and look at me pitiful like, with tears in 'is eyes which made 'em come into mine." "A case of melancholia, Bob," I said. Bob nodded. "Was no effort made, Sophy, to bring his memory back to him?" "Nobody did nothink; he was let alone, the same as I was. I did want 'ard to talk to 'im, but I didn't dare open my lips, or I should have been found out. I do wish somethink could be done for 'im, that I do. Look 'ere, you're rich, ain't you?" "Not exactly rich, Sophy, but I am not poor." "Well, then. Crawley's to be bought." "How do you know that?" "I 'eerd Crawley say to 'isself, 'If I 'ad a 'underd pound I'd cut the cussed concern, and go to Amerikey.'" "Ah! We'll think over it. A hundred pounds is a large sum. It's late, Sophy. I've nothing more to ask you to-night. Get to bed, like a good girl."