Fancy, in floods of tears, reiterating her statement that there
were robbers in the house.
"Oh, Hennessey!" cried Mrs. Merillia, on his entrance, "thank God
that you are come. There are burglars in the house. Fancy has just
encountered them in the hall. Go for the police, my dearest boy. Don't
lose a moment."
"My dear grannie, they're not burglars."
"I can't speak different, Master Hennessey, nor--"
"Then who are they, Hennessey? Fancy declares--"
"They are two--two--well, two old and valued friends of mine."
"Old and valued friends of ours!"
"Of mine, grannie. Fancy, pray don't make such a noise!"
"Fancy," said Mrs. Merillia, "you can go to your room and lie down."
"Yes, ma'am. I say again, as I said afore, the house has been broke into
and the robbers--"
At this point the Prophet shut the door on the faithful and persistent
creature, who forthwith carried her determination and sobs to an upper
storey.
"Hennessey, what is all this? Who is really here?"
"Grannie, dear, only two friends of mine," replied the Prophet, trying
to look at ease, and feeling like a criminal.
"Friends of yours? But surely then I know them. I thought I knew all
your friends.
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