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We does not intend, if we can help it, to lend a hand in jailing Miss Ellie's child, and so, after the Crowner had 'liceted all the facts as he said, and the verdict was made up, Bedney and me didn't feel no crampings in our conscience, about holding our tongues.
Gim'me that hank'cher! Fantods is played out. I would ruther play leap frog over a buzz-saw than than pester and rile Marse Alfred, and have the cunstable clawing my collar." "You poor, pitiful, rascally, cowardly creetur! Whar's that oath you done swore, to help 'fend Miss Ellie's child? And you a deacon, high in the church!
"Oh, rubbish! When a woman says: 'No clothes, she means: 'Not the right clothes." He took a meditative puff. "Ah, you've been going over Ellie's finery with her." "Yes: all those trunks and trunks full. And she finds she's got nothing for St. Moritz!" "Of course," he murmured, drowsy with content, and manifesting but a languid interest in the subject of Mrs. Vanderlyn's wardrobe.
Satisfied by this promise, the child ran away; for customers began to come in, and to loiter would be to lessen her chance of gaining the treasure which to herself she already called Ellie's. McNaughton & Co. did a great business within the next two weeks; the employees were "fearfully rushed," as they expressed it.
"But the cloak I meant the chinchilla cloak... the one with the ermine lining...." "Yes; it is awfully good, isn't it? But I mean to look elsewhere before I decide." Ah, how often she had heard her friends use that phrase; and how amusing it was, now, to see Ellie's amazement as she heard it tossed off in her own tone of contemptuous satiety!
Her companion laughed, and something in the sound of his laugh suggested that he probably knew as much of Ellie's movements as she did, if not more. The sense of disgust which the subject always roused in her made her look away quickly from his tolerant smile.
"Well, darling, Mudder'll be as quick as she can," Julia might console the baby, and under Caroline's cool eye, and with Anna screaming until she was scarlet from her little black crown to the soles of her feet, the bath would somehow proceed. Ellie might put her head in the door. "Well oh, the poor baby, were they 'busing Ellie's baby?" she would croon, coming in.
Without waiting for permission, Dyce darted past the warden's wife, into the room, and almost before Beryl was aware of her presence, stood beside her. "Are you Miss Ellie's daughter?" Listlessly the girl turned and looked at her, and Dyce threw her arms around her slender waist, and falling on her knees hid her face in Beryl's dress, sobbing passionately.
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