‘Is it Mr Taylor?’ Over recent weeks, Taylor had taken to calling every few days. Her consistent refusal to have him admitted to the house had not yet had the desired effect. ‘No, Miss—he says his name’s Hobbs. He’s not a smartly turned out sort of man at all. He come to the back door, as he should. Mrs Jenson’s been trying to get some sense out of him, but her and I can’t make head nor tail of what he’s on about.’ ‘I don’t believe I know anyone of that name. But I’d better see him. Bring him through, please, Nellie.’ Nellie bobbed a curtsey. She disappeared, and was soon back with a frightened-looking little man trailing behind her. ‘Here’s Mr Hobbs, Miss Sarah,’ she announced. ‘Mr Hobbs, do come in,’ said Sarah. ‘Please, sit down.’ She indicated the chair in front of her desk. For a moment, she thought the man might be about to take to his heels. But she saw him gather his courage and step into the room, then walk over and sit down. Nellie curtseyed again and left.
