He knew nothing about Jenny. But George forgot that he knew nothing. "Go in," he said, "it's Jenny." He thrust Ned inside and turned to Sam. "Sam, boy, you savvy no one has come. If anyone ask you say no one. You savvy?" "My savvy all light, my savvy plenty," said Sam doubtfully. "My tinkee him your blother all light, Sir?" "Yes," said Quin. He stood with his hand on the handle of the door after Sam had returned to the kitchen. "My God," said George again. He went into the room. When Ned had gone in he failed to recognise Jenny, and thought she was a white woman. She was nicely dressed, and now her hair was done very neatly. Sam had taught her how to do it. When she stood up, in surprise at the unexpected entrance of Ned, it was obvious even to his troubled eyes that she was near to becoming a mother. She gasped when she saw him. "Oh, Mr. Ned," she cried. He looked dreadful: his clothes were disordered, ragged; his grizzled beard and hair unkempt and long. He looked sixty, though he was no more than fifty, and his eyes were bloodshot. "Who are you?" asked Ned sharply. "I'm Jenny," she murmured, looking abashed and troubled. And then George came in. When Jenny saw him she cried out-- "What's the mattah, Tchorch?" There was matter enough to make her man pallid. But he was master of himself, for he had to look after the poor wretch who now fell into a chair by the fire and sat huddled up in terror. "I'll tell you by and by," said George. "Give him a drink, Jenny girl, and give me one. I've got to go out." She brought the whisky to him. He poured some out for Ned, who swallowed as a man, who had thirsted for a tropic day, would swallow water. George took some himself. "Sit quiet, Ned," said George. "I'll be back in half an hour, Jenny!" She followed him to the door. "Don't let him move. If anyone calls, say I'm out, dear." "What's the mattah, Tchorch? He looks very ill," she murmured, with her hand on his shoulder. George told her what Ned had told him, and Jenny trembled like a leaf. "Poor, poor Mary!" she sobbed. "Oh, the cruel man!" "Oh, hell," said George, and Jenny controlled her tears. "What you do, Tchorch?" "I'm going to get someone to take him across the other side," said George. "I must, I must." He ran out and down the hill path, and Jenny went back reluctantly to the room where the murderer sat. He was shivering, but the liquor had pulled him more together for the time. He wanted to talk. How was it that Jenny was here? He remembered he had seen Pete on the road. "I saw Pete to-day," he said suddenly. Jenny stared down at the floor and answered nothing. "I'm a wretched man, girl," said Ned; "did George tell you?" Jenny did not reply, and Ned knew that she knew. He burst into tears.