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Fo w'at you come in yeh?" "My dear madam! My husband" "Dass you' uzban'?" pointing at him. "Yes!" cried the two Richlings at once. The woman folded her arms again, turned half-aside, and, lifting her eyes to the ceiling, simply remarked, with an ecstatic smile: "Humph!" and left the pair, red with exasperation, to find the street again through the darkening cave of the stair-way.
He continued: "Go h-open you' owze; I fin' you' daughteh dad' uzban'." Madame Delphine was a helpless, timid thing; but her eyes showed she was about to resent this offer. Monsieur Vignevielle put forth his hand it touched her shoulder and said, kindly still, and without eagerness. "One w'ite man, Madame; 'tis prattycabble. I know 'tis prattycabble. One w'ite jantleman, Madame. You can truz me.
She shook her head, a tear fell, she bit her lip, smiled, and suddenly dropped her face into both hands, sat down upon the bench and wept until she shook. "You dunno wad I mean, Madame Carraze?" She did not know. "I mean dad guardian of you' daughteh godd to fine 'er now one 'uzban'; an' noboddie are hable to do dad egceb de good God 'imsev. But, Madame, I tell you wad I do." She rose up.
She shook her head, a tear fell, she bit her lip, smiled, and suddenly dropped her face into both hands, sat down upon the bench and wept until she shook. "You dunno wad I mean, Madame Carraze?" She did not know. "I mean dad guardian of you' daughteh godd to fine 'er now one 'uzban'; an' noboddie are hable to do dad egceb de good God 'imsev. But, Madame, I tell you wad I do." She rose up.
"Missez Witchlin," said he, as soon as they were out in the corridor, "I dunno if you goin' to billiv me, but I boun' to tell you that nodwithstanning that yo' 'uzban' is displease' with me, an' nodwithstanning 'e's in that calaboose, I h'always fine 'im a puffic gen'leman that Mistoo Itchlin, an' I'll sweah 'e is a gen'leman!" She lifted her anguished eyes and looked into his beautiful face.
He continued: "Go h-open you' owze; I fin' you' daughteh dad uzban'." Madame Delphine was a helpless, timid thing; but her eyes showed she was about to resent this offer. Monsieur Vignevielle put forth his hand it touched her shoulder and said, kindly still, and without eagerness: "One w'ite man, Madame: 'tis prattycabble. I know 'tis prattycabble. One w'ite jantleman, Madame. You can truz me.
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