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A woman of middle age behind the counter was curtsying to his clerical attire, and a little girl at the door of an inner room was looking at him out of the corner of her eyes, with head aslant. "Father Storm, I think, sir. Come in and set you down, sir. Mind the shop, Booboo. My 'usband 'as told me about ye, sir. 'You'll know 'im at onct, Lidjer, 'e sez, siz 'e.
"Down't mind 'im, 'Enery," said the wife, now weeping audibly. "And down't you tyke on so, Lidjer," said the husband, and they looked as if they were about to embrace. John Storm could stand no more. Going down the court he was thinking with a pang of Glory that she had lived months in the atmosphere of that impostor when somebody touched his arm in the darkness. It was the girl.
"It was all in the evenin' pipers last night," the weak creature whimpered, "and to-day my manager told me I 'ad best look out for another place. Oh, my poor Lidjer! What am I to do?" "Do? Cut her off like a rotten bough!" said John scornfully, and with that he strode down the street.
Was the man a fool or a hypocrite? "Mr. Jupe," said John, rising, "I'm afraid your wife has been carrying on an improper and illegal business." "Now stou thet, sir," said the man, wagging his head. "I respects the Reverend Jawn Storm a good deal, but I respects Mrs. Lidjer Jupe a good deal more, and when it comes to improper and illegal bizniss "
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