"One of our tribe--aye, and he's a great Romany for sure--is coming to camp with us.
Each minute he may come, and I go to get ready a stew of hedgehog, for Gentile words I must use to you, who are a Gorgio.

And so good day to you, my lady," ended the old hag, again becoming the truly respectable pew-opener.

Then she dropped a curtsey--whether ironical or not, Miss Greeby could not tell--and disappeared into the tent, followed by the white cat, who haunted her footsteps like the ghost she declared it to be.
Clearly there was nothing more to be learned from Mother Cockleshell, who, in the face of her visitor's doubts, had become hostile, so Miss Greeby, dismissing the whole episode as over and done with, turned her attention toward finding Lambert.

With her bludgeon under her arm and her hands in the pockets of her jacket, she stalked through the camp in quite a masculine fashion, not vouchsafing a single reply to the greetings which the gypsies gave her.

Shortly she saw the artist chatting with Chaldea at the beginning of the path which led to his cottage.