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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Andrew D. Gable" data-source="post: 1701380" data-attributes="member: 4144">"Not at all," the man says, looking up as Diggory walks over to join Trevor.  "Ye look like city folk t'me.  Where'n ye be from?  Cardiff?  Or maybe Gloucester?"  He takes another swig of his ale.  "Name's Alan Llewellyn.  Heard ye seem t'have an interest in the Kellys.  Strange folk they were, but paid well, so's I can't be complainin'.  "It was in 1871 I started workin' for the Kellys with my wife Alice, God rest 'er soul.  Doin' handyman work about the house, fixin' things when they needed fixin'.  In those days the father Kelly, Henry, was still livin' though his wife 'ad died a while before.  John was the older of the two children, 'e was off in the military most of the time.  Mary was always... well, a mite touched in the head.  She was only 13 when I started there, but even then ye could tell she weren't never gonna be quite right, if'n ye know what I mean."Then in 1872 a doctor came 'round, 'e was from the college in Cardiff or Brichester or somewhere.  Henry said that Mary should earn 'er keep around the house, and so she entered the employ of this doctor feller.  Then..."  He takes a long swig of his ale and casts his eyes towards a spot on the table.  "'73 was a mostly bad year.  John got home from the military, but Henry passed on.  Just old was all.  And then, well, one day in January, Mary came rushin' back in from one of her walks in the woods, she liked to do that, even in the winter.  Said she'd been attacked by somebody, though she couldn't say who.  John never doubted for a moment, once 'e saw all them scratches on 'er.  "Well, it was only a matter of time then, 'till we found out for sure what we all thought we knew anyways.  Mary was pregnant.  In October of '73 she had 'er baby.  And then it was shortly after that, only a few days, we woke and found that she'd run off.  My Alice had also passed by then.  Me and John, we put the baby, the son, in care of a nice religious family up in the midcountry.  John had some friends up there.  "Then we heard nothin' more.  Not until '84, when Mary wrote John and told 'im she was in London, had been there for a few years.  And then, well, we heard the news in '88 that she'd died."Llewellyn continues drinking his ale.</blockquote>

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