But Biddy had been worn out by the time she got to bed and then, cuddling down and waiting for sleep to overcome her at once, as it usually did, she was sadly disappointed. All she could do was think about him, the young man who had rescued her, Dai Evans! How he looked when he was serious, how he looked when he smiled. How he had not once taken his eyes off her all the while she had been in the dining-room last night. How he had been the subject of conversation, for a few brief moments, when Mrs Gallagher and her sister had returned to the kitchen to help Biddy to wash up and clear away. That had been quite mysterious, now she came to think about it. Mrs Prescott had kept starting sentences and not finishing them, and Mrs Gallagher had spoken, not sharply, but with a kind of definite finality, which seemed to have been sufficient to make Mrs Prescott change the subject at least. Mrs Gallagher had explained about the relationship between her and Mrs Prescott, though – how she had been a maid of all work at Culler’s Orphan Asylum when a new-born baby had been left on the doorstep.
