"There wasn't no 'im."
"Not?" He held out the little card.
"No; there was a lady and two young ladies."
"But—these cards! Wad they go and leave these two little cards with the Rev. G. Smith on for? Not if 'e wasn't with 'em."
"'E wasn't with 'em."
"Not a little chap—dodgin' about be'ind the others? And didn't come in?"
"I didn't see no gentleman with them at all," said Ann.
"Rum!" said Kipps. A half-forgotten experience came back to him. "I know," he said, waving the reverend gentleman's card; "'e give 'em the slip, that's what he'd done. Gone off while they was rapping before you let 'em in. It's a fair call, any'ow." He felt a momentary base satisfaction at his absence. "What did they talk about, Ann?"
There was a pause. "I didn't let 'em in," said Ann.
He looked up suddenly and perceived that something unusual was the matter with Ann. Her face was flushed, her eyes were red and hard.
"Didn't let 'em in?"
"No! They didn't come in at all."
He was too astonished for words.
"I answered the door," said Ann; "I'd been upstairs 'namelling the floor. 'Ow was I to think about Callers, Artie? We ain't never 'ad Callers all the time we been 'ere. I'd sent Gwendolen out for a
