'You take yourself off,' she said, desperately, pushing him with her
fist. 'That money's no business o' yourn. It's John's, an he's comin
back directly. He gave it us to look after, an I wor countin it. March!
--there's your father comin!'
And with all her force she endeavoured to wrench his hand away. He tore
it from her, and hit out at her backwards--a blow that sent her reeling
against the wall.
'Yo take yer meddlin fist out o' that!' he said. 'Father ain't comin,
and if he wor, I 'spect I could manage the two on yer--_Keowntin_ it'--
he mimicked her. 'Oh! yer a precious innercent, ain't yer? But I know
all about yer. Bless yer, I've been in at the "Spotted Deer" to-night,
and there worn't nothin else talked of but yo and yor goins-on. There
won't be a tongue in the place to-morrow that won't be a-waggin about
yer--yur a public charickter, yo are--they'll be sendin the reporters
down on yer for a hinterview. "Where the Devil do she get the money?"
they says.'
He threw his curly head back and laughed till his sides shook.
'Lor, I didn't think I wor goin to know quite so soon! An sich queer
'arf-crowns, they ses, as she keeps a-changin. Jarge somethin--an old
cove in a wig. An 'ere they is, I'll be blowed--some on 'em. Well, yer a
nice un, yer are!'
He stared her up and down with a kind of admiration.
Bessie began to cry feebly--the crying of a lost soul.
'Tim, if yer'll go away an hold yer tongue, I'll give yer five o' them
suverins, and not tell yer father nothin.'
'Five on 'em?' he said, grinning. 'Five on 'em, eh?'
And dipping his hands into the box he began deliberately shovelling the
whole hoard into his trousers and waistcoat pocket.
Bessie flung herself upon him. He gave her one businesslike blow which
knocked her down against the bedroom door. The door yielded to her fall,
and she lay there half-stunned, the blood dripping from her temple.
'Noa, I'll not take 'em all,' he said, not even troubling to look where
she had fallen. 'That 'ud be playin it rayther too low down on old John.
I'll leave 'im two--jest two--for luck.'
He buttoned up his coat tightly, then turned to throw a last glance at
Bessie. He had always disliked his father's second wife, and his sense
of triumph was boundless.
'Oh! yer not hurt,' he said; 'yer shammin. I advise yer to look sharp
with shuttin up. Father'll be up the hill in two or three minutes now.
Sorry I can't 'elp yer, now yer've set me up so comfortabul. Bye-bye!'
He ran down the stairs. She, as her senses revived, heard him open the
back door, cross the little garden, and jump the hedge at the end of it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account