“Yes, of course I should. One cannot hate a brute beast enough to starve it to death. Besides, they do not lock each other up for false swearing. Oh, yes! I would give a piece of this steak to a hungry dog—or a hungry cat either. Here, Peg, Peg, come here, Peg!”
As she spoke, Jane cast off a fragment of the steak, and held it up at a tantalizing height above the eager cat, who mewed, and leaped, and quivered all over with impatience, to seize upon it.
Madame De Marke watched the contest with gleaming eyes. When she saw the fragment fall, to be pounced upon by the voracious cat, a sharp yell broke from her, and she cried out with the pang of a mother over her ungrateful child.
“Oh! oh! how she devours it, while I am starving. Peg, oh! misery, Peg, how can you?” Again Jane Kelly burst into an unfeeling laugh.
“How much will you give now, old lady,” she said, “for a piece of steak, like that which poor, dear, grateful Peg is tearing with her claws?”
“How much will I give? Oh! if I had thousands here, you should have them—only for the least mouthful. But you have taken my all!” cried the old woman, piteously.
“Tell me where the box of gold and jewels is, and I’ll give you some,” replied Jane, flinging another piece of steak to the cat, and preparing to seat herself before the broken platter, on which she had placed the larger portion.
“The box? The box? Oh, I have told you. In the bank. I sent it there!” was the affrighted answer.
Jane divided the steak before her, and tearing out the heart of a white loaf with her hand, began to eat.
“Oh, Jane Kelly! how can you? Have pity, have pity. I am so hungry, Jane Kelly!”