"You arranged that very well," he said. "I gather, though, that Elkin
spoke rather openly."
"Just as I've put it, sir. He tripped a bit over the time on Monday
night. But it's only fair to say that he might have had Tomlin's
license in mind."
"That issue will be settled to-morrow. I'll find out the commercial
traveler's name, and send a telegram from Knoleworth before noon.... Who
is Peggy Smith?"
Robinson set down an empty glass with a stare of surprise.
"Bob Smith's daughter, sir," he answered.
"No doubt. But, proceed."
"Well, sir, she's just a village girl. Her father is a blacksmith. His
forge is along to the right, not far. She'll be twenty, or thereabouts."
"Frivolous?"
"Not more than the rest of 'em, sir."
"Have you seen her flirting with Elkin?"
Robinson took thought.
"Now that I come to think of it, she might be given a bit that way. Her
father shoes Elkin's nags, so there's a lot of comin' an' goin' between
the two places. But folks would always look on it as natural enough. Yes,
I've seen 'em together more than once."
"In that case, he can hardly grumble if the postmaster's daughter has an
eye for another young man.
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