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Updated: June 22, 2025
Inside, all was plain and homely, but clean and in order. The excitement into which Pinky had been thrown was nearly over by this time. "You've done me a good turn, Norah," she said as the door closed upon them, "and I'll not soon forget you." "Ugh!" ejaculated Norah as she looked into Pinky's bruised face; "Sal's hit you square in the eye; it'll be black as y'r boot by morning.
She turned to Gloria and said in her quiet way: "You shouldn't take it so hard Sal's falling. We get used to such things here." And she smoothed out Hunkie's dress as she sat down on the window-sill, there being but one chair in the room. "And then when you come right down to it," she said, "Sal will have the time of her life. I just came from the hospital.
"I thought I see her fiddlin' about the gun, when the chase was made after the Yankee, although I didn't think to say nothing about it, when you axed Tom Fluke about Sal's apron." Whatever conjecture might have arisen with others, there was no time to think of, much less to discuss it the boats were already within a few yards of the vessel.
Everybody's got the screws on, and things must break sometimes, but it isn't called murder. The coroner understands it all. He's used to seeing things break." FOR a short time the sounds of cruel exultation came over from Flanagan's; then all was still. "Sal's put her mark on you," said Norah, looking steadily into Pinky's face, and laughing in a cold, half-amused way.
Saturday came at last, and long before the sun peeped over the eastern hills, Mary was up and dressed. Just as she was ready to leave her room, she heard Sally singing in a low tone, "Oh, there'll be mourning, mourning, mourning, mourning, Oh, there'll be mourning when Mary's gone away." Hastily opening her own door, she knocked at Sal's, and was bidden to enter.
Near this sat Madge and Sal, talking gaily, and away on the left-hand side they could see the door open, and a warm flood of light pouring in from the hall. They had been talking together for some time, when Sal's quick ear caught a footfall on the soft carpet, and, turning rapidly, she saw a tall figure advancing down the room.
"She's been a terrible creature," he explained, wagging his hard old hickorynut head and clawing his beard with a kind of spiritual rapacity for devouring the worst of Sal's character. "She's done more harm than a dozen wildcat stills. Then all at once, here about five years ago she turned good, 'lowed she'd heerd from God. It was blasphemous. Seems she hadn't went to church since she was a gal.
It was a hard winter at that. But regularity pulled us through. Reg'lar work, reg'lar ways, reg'lar rations and reg'lar lime-juice, as long as it lasted. And not half a bad Christmas we didn't have neither, and poor Sal's Christmas-tree was the best part of it.
Now it was no longer lonely, for Sal's fertile imagination was constantly suggesting something new, either by way of pastime or mischief. Towards Miss Grundy, she and the other paupers evinced a strong dislike, owing, in a great measure, to the air of superiority which that lady thought proper to assume, and which was hardly more than natural considering the position which she occupied.
Mother Guttersnipe objected at first, characterising the whole affair as "cussed 'umbug," but she, likewise, gave in, and Sal became maid to Miss Frettlby, who immediately set to work to remedy Sal's defective education by teaching her to read. The book she held in her hand was a spelling-book, and this she handed to Madge.
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