"Well, it were loike this, you see? We were both on us a-waiting fur t' train at t' Junction. And I had setten mysen down upat t' bench. And Station-Maister, he comes and he orders me offfur t' mak' room for her Ladyship, you understand?"
"I remember it all," I said. "I was there myself, that day."
"Was you, now? Well, an' she axes my pardon fur 't. Think o' that, now! My pardon! An owd ne'er-do-weel like me! Ah! She's been here many a time, sin' then. Why, she were in here only yestere'en, as it were, a-sittin', as it might be, where you're a-sitting now, an' lookin' sweeter and kinder nor an angel! An' she says 'You've not got your Minnie, now,' she says, 'to fettle for ye.' Minnie was my grand-daughter, Sir, as lived wi' me. She died, a matter of two months agoor it may be three. She was a bonny lassand a good lass, too. Eh, but life has been rare an' lonely without her!"
He covered his face in his hands: and I waited a minute or two, in silence, for him to recover himself.
