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An' that upset me, p'leaceman, an' made me swownd, an' when I comed to, I couldn't hear nothink only my pore Jenny's voice a-sobbin' on the wind, "Mother, vi'lets, vi'lets; mother, vi'lets, vi'lets!" an' that sent me off my 'ead a bit, an' I run out o' the 'ouse, an' there was Jenny's voice a-goin' on before me a-sobbin', "Mother, vi'lets, vi'lets; mother, vi'lets, vi'lets!" an' it seemed to lead me back to the churchyard; an' lo an' be'old! there was the pore half-starved creatur' a-settin' there jist as I'd left 'er, an' I sez, "God bless you, my gal, you're a-starvin'!" an' she jumped up, an' she comed an' throwed 'er arms round my waist, an' there we stood both on us a-cryin' togither, an' then I runned back into Carnarvon, an' fetched 'er some grub, an' she tucked into the grub.
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.
Off to Carnarvon I goes, an' every futt o' the way I walks Lor' bless your soul, there worn't a better pair o' pins nowheres than Meg Gudgeon's then, afore the water got in 'em an' bust 'em; an' I got to Llanbeblig churchyard early one mornin', and there I seed the pore half-sharp gal. So you see I comed by 'er 'onest enough, p'leaceman, though she worn't ezzackly my own darter.
'Well, well, I said; 'go on. 'Yes, it's all very well to say "go on," p'leaceman; but if you'd got as much water in your legs as I've got in mine, an' if you'd got no more wind in your bellows than I've got in mine, you'd find it none so easy to go on. 'What was she doing in the churchyard? 'Well, p'leaceman, I'm tellin' you the truth, s'elp me Bob!
I forgot where I was, I forgot that Sinfi was standing outside the door, till I heard the woman's voice exclaiming, 'What do you want to set on my bed an' look at me like that for? you ain't no p'leaceman in plain clothes, so none o' your larks. Git off o' my bed, will ye? You'll be a-settin' on my bad leg an' a-bustin' on it in a minit.
But hullo! p'leaceman, what's up now? What the devil are you a-squeedgin' my 'and like that for? Are you a-goin' to kiss it? It ain't none so clean, p'leaceman. You're the rummest copper in plain clothes ever I seed in all my born days.
'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.
'How do I know that she came to no harm with a wretch like you? The woman shrank back upon the pillows in a revival of her terror. 'She never comed to no 'arm, p'leaceman. No, no, she never comed to no 'arm through me.
I wants to feel the snowdrops, an' smell the vi'lets, an' the primroses, a-growin' over my 'ead," sez she; "but that can't never be, mother," sez she, a-sobbin' fit to bust; "never, never, for such as me," sez she. An' I know'd what she meant, though she never once blamed me, an' 'er words stuck in my gizzard like a thorn, p'leaceman. 'But what has all this to do with the girl you kidnapped?
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