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"The widder two pair up at Number Seven? What hooks?" "She's slipped her wind, handed in her chips." "Mean she's dead? Carn't you say so, mister?" "Sharp boy! That's what she is. Dead." "That won't soote Aunt M'riar." Micky had only known old Maisie by repute, but he knew the Court's love for her. A wish for some confirmation of the convict's statement arose in his mind.
Marrable, as told about by Dave. There had been mention of Australia certainly. Yet why should Granny Marrable's sister having died there forty-odd years ago connect her with an old woman of a different name, now living? Besides, Dave was not intelligible on this point. Whatever she told to Aunt M'riar was repeated to Uncle Mo be sure of that!
"There you are again, Uncle Mo, a-tellin' and a-tellin' and a-tellin'!" So Aunt M'riar would say when she heard this narrative going over well-known ground for the thousandth time. "And them children not lettin' you turn round in bed, I call it!" This was in reference to Dave and Dolly's severity about the text.
Marrowbone the Smith from Crincham he come next day and mended up the gate, only the bool he was tied to a post, and the boy whistled him a tune, or he would have tostid Mr. Marrowbone the Smith." Said Aunt M'riar irrelevantly: "What was the tune he whistled, Dave? You tell Mrs. Prichard what tune it was he whistled!" To which Dave answered with reserve: "A long tune."
It is good to hold you so, again!" He clasped her in his arms. "'Yn't it beautiful!" M'riar muttered, gazing at them. "W'ite as snow 'is 'air looks, w'en 'ers that is that dark, is hup hagainst it close, like that!" "Dear old father!" Anna cried, as she drew back.
"Where's the * cash?" said he. "It's all I've got," said poor Aunt M'riar. She handed the purse to him, and he caught it and slipped it in a breast-pocket, and was out in the Court in a moment, running, without another word. He vanished into the darkness. Five minutes later, Uncle Mo, escaping from Mrs. Tapping, came down the Court, and found the front-door open and no light in the house.
A good deal, that is, when it came to be put together and liberally helped by inferences; but made up of very small deals disjointed deals in the form in which they were received by Aunt M'riar.
Having identified Sapps, he seemed to know quite well which house he wanted, for he went straight to the end and knocked at No. 7. "Sakes alive!" said Aunt M'riar, responsive to the knock. "There's no fire here." "I'm off duty," said the fireman briefly. "I've come to tell you about your young customer at the Hospital." Aunt M'riar behaved heroically.
Prichard's thin soprano had an appeal to this effect in it on Dave's behalf as she said: "Oh, but the dear child may tell me, please, all about the truck and some more things, too, before he goes to play with Dolly. He has always such a many things to tell, has this little man! Hasn't he now, Mrs. Wardle?" Aunt M'riar good woman as she was had a vice. She always would improve occasions.
What Phoebe would have been if she had married my husband's brother Mrs. Ralph Daverill...." "Good Lord!" exclaimed Aunt M'riar. "Ah, there now!" said the old lady. "To think I should never have told you his name!" She missed the full strength of Aunt M'riar's exclamation; accounted it mere surprise at what was either a reference to a former husband or an admission of a pseudonym.
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