"You may be right, Mr. Dishart, in this matter, for there is this in
our favour, that the woman can gain nothing by tricking us. She did
seem to feel for Nanny. But who can she be? You saw she could put on
and off the Scotch tongue as easily as if it were a cap."
"She is as much a mystery to me as to you," Gavin answered, "but she
will give me the money, and that is all I ask of her."
"Ay, that remains to be seen. But take care of yourself; a man's
second childhood begins when a woman gets hold of him."
"Don't alarm yourself about me, doctor. I daresay she is only one of
those gypsies from the South. They are said to be wealthy, many of
them, and even, when they like, to have a grand manner. The Thrums
people had no doubt but that she was what she seemed to be."
"Ay, but what does she seem to be? Even that puzzles me. And then
there is this mystery about her which she admits herself, though
perhaps only to play with us."
"Perhaps," said Gavin, "she is only taking precautions against her
discovery by the police. You must remember her part in the riots."
"Yes, but we never learned how she was able to play that part.
Besides, there is no fear in her, or she would not have ventured back
to Thrums. However, good luck attend you. But be wary. You saw how she
kept her feet among her shalls and wills? Never trust a Scotch man or
woman who does not come to grief among them."
The doctor took his seat in the dogcart.
"And, Mr. Dishart," he called out, "that was all nonsense about the
locket."
Chapter Fourteen.