“Don't talk rubbish, woman,” said Archie tartly, for he did not wish Lucy to be upset again by this ancient ghoul.
“Woman indeed, sir. I'd have you know,—oh!” the widow jumped and quavered as the lid of the packing case fell on the floor with a bang. “Oh lor, sir, the start you did give me!”
But Braddock had no eyes for her, and no ears for anyone. He pulled lustily at the straw packing, and soon the floor was littered with rubbish. But no green case appeared, and no mummy. Suddenly Widow Anne shrieked again.
“There's my Sid—dead—oh, my son, dead! dead!”
She spoke truly. The body of Sidney Bolton was before them.
H2 anchor