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Updated: June 22, 2025
From that time Sal gave up all hopes of educating Uncle Peter, and confined herself mostly to literary efforts, of which we shall speak hereafter. The night following Sal's first acquaintance with Mary, Alice cried until nearly day dawn.
North Wind takes nobody in! Here I am in master's garden! I tell you what, little girl, you just bore a hole in old Sal's wall, and put your mouth to it, and say, 'Please, North Wind, mayn't I go out with you? and then you'll see what'll come." "I daresay I shall. But I'm out in the wind too often already to want more of it." "I said with the North Wind, not in it." "It's all one."
The men and women went home quietly; tender and long-forgotten feelings had been briefly aroused, and very few who had visited The Cleopatra went near the public-house that night. "Them was blessed words," whispered little Sal's mother, "and she's a blessed gel. Talk of saints, I call Hester Wright one, though she never preached no sarmon.
On walked Michael, down the alley to the narrow opening that to the uninitiated was not an opening between the buildings at all, and slipped in the old way. He had thought it all out in the night. He was sure he knew just how far beyond Sal's house it was; on into the fetid air of the close dark place, the air that struck him in the face like a hot, wet blanket as he kept on.
She allows with sobs if her dear friend Annie's goin' to get married she wants in on the game as bridesmaid. "'Which you-all shorely gets a hand as sech, says Doc Peets, who's actin' lookout for the deal; an' so he stakes out Sal over by the nigh side of Benson Annie, who kisses her quite frantic, an' unites her wails to Sal's.
Mother Guttersnipe was seated in front of the deal table, with a broken cup and her favourite bottle of spirits before her. She evidently intended to have a night of it, in order to celebrate Sal's return, and had commenced early, so as to lose no time. Sal herself was seated on a broken chair, and leaned wearily against the wall.
"Well, then, keep him over Sunday yourself; he's good as a kitten. John Winslow'll hear o' Sal's death sooner or later, unless he's gone out of the state altogether, an' when he knows the boy's at the poor farm, I kind o' think he'll come and claim him.
The keen air seemed to make her easily breathless. But at all events she felt comfortably warm, and the sun felt hot on her cheek. She had at length persuaded herself that she was anxious about Singing Sal's safety. Many people must have perished in that snowstorm caught unawares on the lonely downs.
'I don't know, Miss, said the man, who knew much less about Singing Sal's ways than did Miss Anne Beresford. 'Mayhap the concert didn't come off, along of the snow. Nan again thanked him, and continued on her way eastward. She was thinking. Somehow she had quite forgotten about the church.
Haven't you?" returned Diamond. "No; nor mother neither. Old Sal's all I've got." And she began to cry again. "I wouldn't go to her if she wasn't good to me," said Diamond. "But you must go somewheres." "Move on," said the voice of a policeman behind them. "I told you so," said the girl. "You must go somewheres. They're always at it." "But old Sal doesn't beat you, does she?" "I wish she would."
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