But he was essentially a business
man, and the matters of the moment seemed to be critical. So he promised
to return, and then hurried back to his hotel--to find Melky Rubinstein
pacing up and down outside the entrance.
Purdie tapped Melky's shoulder and motioned him to walk along Praed
Street.
"Look here!" he said. "I want you to take me to see your cousin--and the
pawnshop. We must have a talk--you said your cousin's a good business
woman. She's the sort we can discuss business with, eh?"
"My cousin Zillah Wildrose, mister," answered Melky, solemnly, "is one of
the best! She's a better headpiece on her than what I have--and that's
saying a good deal. I was going to suggest you should come there. Talk!--
s'elp me, Mr. Purdie, it strikes me there'll be a lot of that before we've
done. What about this here affair of last night?--I've just seen Mr.
Ayscough, passing along--he's told me all about it. Do you think it's
anything to do with our business?"
"Can't say," answered Purdie. "Wait till we can discuss matters with your
cousin."
Melky led the way to the side-door of the pawnshop. Since the old man's
death, the whole establishment had been closed--Zillah had refused to do
any business until her grandfather's funeral was over.
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