"I think you have got a letter to give me," I began. "Is it the letter
there, in your hand?"
"Say that again," was the only answer I received.
I repeated the words, like a good child learning its lesson.
"No," said the girl, speaking to herself, but keeping her eyes still
mercilessly fixed on me. "I can't find out what she saw in his face. I
can't guess what she heard in his voice." She suddenly looked away from
me, and rested her head wearily on the top of her crutch. "Oh, my poor
dear!" she said, in the first soft tones which had fallen from her, in
my hearing. "Oh, my lost darling! what could you see in this man?" She
lifted her head again fiercely, and looked at me once more. "Can you eat
and drink?" she asked.
I did my best to preserve my gravity, and answered, "Yes."
"Can you sleep?"
"Yes."
"When you see a poor girl in service, do you feel no remorse?"
"Certainly not. Why should I?"
She abruptly thrust the letter (as the phrase is) into my face.
"Take it!" she exclaimed furiously. "I never set eyes on you before. God
Almighty forbid I should ever set eyes on you again."
With those parting words she limped away from me at the top of her
speed.
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