y bad--like
to die--I'm a-seein' arter 'er. Better let 'er alone; she bites when
she's in 'er tantrums.'

'We's friends o' hern,' said Sinfi, whose appearance and decisive
voice seemed to reassure the girl.

'Oh, if you're friends that's different,' said she. 'Meg's gone off
'er 'ead; thinks the p'leace in plain clothes are after 'er.'

We went up the stairs. The girl followed us. When we reached a low
door, Sinfi proposed that she should remain outside on the landing,
but within ear-shot, as 'the sight o' both on us, all of a suddent,
might make the poor body all of a dither if she was very ill.'

The girl then opened the door and went in. I heard the woman's voice
say in answer to her,

'Friend? Who is it? Are you sure, Poll, it ain't a copper in plain
clothes come about that gal?'

The girl came out, and signalling me to enter, went leisurely
downstairs. Leaving Sinfi outside on the landing, I entered the room.
There, on a sort of truckle-bed in one corner, I saw the woman. She
slowly raised herself up on her elbows to stare at me. I took for
granted that she would recognise me at once; but either because she
was in drink when I saw her last, or because she had got the idea of
a policeman in plain clothes, she did not seem to know me. Then a
look of dire alarm broke over her face and she said,

'P'leaceman, I'm as hinicent about that air gal as a new-born babe.'

'Mrs. Gudgeon,' I said, 'I only want you to tell a friend of mine
about your daughter.'

'Oh yis! a friend o' yourn! Another or two on ye in plain clothes
behind the door, I dessay. An' pray who said the gal wur my darter?
What for do you want to put words into the mouth of a hinicent dyin'
woman? I comed by 'er 'onest enough. The pore half-starved thing came
up to me in Llanbeblig churchyard.'

'Llanbeblig churchyard?' I exclaimed, drawing close up to the bed.
'How came you in Llanbeblig churchyard?' But then I remembered that,
according to her own story, she had married a Welshman.

'How did I come in Llanbeblig churchyard?' said the woman in a tone
in which irony and fear were strangely mingled. 'Well, p'leaceman, I
don't mean to be sarcy: but seein' as all my pore dear 'usband's kith
and kin o' the name o' Goodjohn was buried in Llanbeblig churchyard,
p'raps you'll be kind enough to let me go there sometimes, an' p'raps
be buried there when my time comes.'

'But what took you there?' I said.

'What took me to Llanbeblig churchyard?' excl