“Now, don’t you be quite so cheeky, Master Charlie,” returned his companion. “What is a lone, unprotected female to do in a great city like this? Tell me that.”
“You know more of the great city than I do, and as to what a lone female is to do, my charmer, why that all depends.”
“I’ve not seen you since I left Sheffield. Tell me, does any of our old pals ever mention my name?”
“Not one that I ever heard—not since you slipped away so cleverly. No one seems to have troubled their heads about you.”
“Ah, people are soon forgotten in this world. You know my mother is dead?”
“Yes, I knew that long ago. My word, you had a narrow escape, my lady—were as near as possible being nabbed and quodded.”
Peace had known Laura Stanbridge from her earliest childhood. She was a native of the same town as himself, and like him she was a lawless character. When but little more than a child she began to steal. Her mother had encouraged her acts of petty larceny.
When a little girl she had worked at one of the factories in Sheffield, and while thus employed she robbed her employer, who himself forbore from prosecuting her on account of her youth.
She was, however, discharged without a character; bad training, bad companionship did the rest, and she became an habitual thief, but somehow or other was fortunate enough to escape the meshes of the law.
Her last robbery in the town was of an extensive nature; it was carried out under the direction of a gang of thieves. Her companions in guilt were tried, convicted, and sentenced to various terms of imprisonment.