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"Maggie," she asked in a deep, sepulchral tone, "where do you live?" "Just around the corner on High Street, mum," gasped Maggie. Then, keeping her eyes fixed uneasily on Zoie she picked up her basket and backed cautiously toward the door. "Wait!" commanded Zoie; and Maggie paused, one foot in mid-air. "Wait in the hall," said Zoie. "Yes'um," assented Maggie, almost in a whisper.
The stock in the Union Rubber Company will amount to as much again, maybe twice as much. You're a real heiress, my dear, with wads of real money to show for it. That's what I'm trying to tell you." "Fifty thousand a year!" Nancy turned a shocked face, from which the color slowly drained, leaving it blue-white. "Fifty thousand a year! You're mad. It can't be!" "Yes'um. Fifty thousand at least."
"What?" was all that Mother Mayberry managed to demand from the depths of her astonishment as she sank back in her rocking-chair and regarded Eliza with positive awe. "Yes'um, and it were all about them two beautiful boxes of sweet-smelling soap that he bought in town and have had in the store window for a week.
"I don't believe you do," Nancy said, a trifle absently. "Unlock the door, Dick. I don't think Sheila put on that sweater when I told her to, and I'm afraid she'll get cold." "Kiss me, Nancy." "Will you unlock the door if I do?" "Yes'um."
I know exactly how I want everything laid, you see!" "Don't apologise, my love. I know I'm no good at finnicky work, but I'll fetch and carry with the best. Knives yes! Glass yes! Plates yes! Leave the plates till the last, and bring up the rest first. Yes'um! I understand! Knives and tumblers for seven. They shall be yours before you can say `Jack Robinson."
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