She sat down and penned a hasty epistle to Bandy-legged Bill.
“There,” she said, handing it to Amy, “give him that and tell him to deliver it to the party to whom it is addressed. But stay, better give him something for the favour. Here is half-a-sovereign, slip that into his hand when you give him the letter.”
“I think he’s a sort of a man who is quite open to receive a bribe,” cried Amy, bursting out into a laugh, as she descended the stairs once more.
“Oh, gi’ him this—eh?” said Cooney. “Right you are, Mary. It shall be done, and no flies. What! half a quid. S’help me bob, I wish I could find a few more of your sort. Your missus is a stunner, and no mistake.”
“Do hold your tongue, you donkey.”
“Vell, I’m blest. Don’t like to hear a cove speak—don’t yer?”
“I don’t care about listening to your conversation.”
“Why, what’s the matter with it?”
“It doesn’t please me—that’s all. You have a deal too much to say.”
“All right, darling, then. I’ll remain mum. So I’m to give this to Bill?”