Ackroyd shook hands with the two, and went out.
Lydia looked eagerly into his face.
'Is he very bad, Mr.Ackroyd ?' she whispered.
'I hope he's come round by this time,' was his reply.

'My sister's attending to him, and we've got things for him from the doctor.' They passed into the street, and walked quickly side by side.
'It was very good of you to take him in,' Lydia said.

'It would have been very hard to ask Mrs.Bower for help.' 'Yes, yes; We don't want them.' Lydia and Mrs.Poole had never met.

They looked with interest at each other.

Ackroyd went down into the kitchen, leaving them together in the room with the old man.
The night went on.