Lizzie held out a grubby palm with a half-crown in it: “I wants my doll back, if you please, miss.”
“But you sold it.”
“I didn’t mean to. You took me so sudden.”
“I gave you ever so much more than it was worth. Why, I don’t believe it cost you three ha’pence!”
“Tuppence,” said Lizzie.
“Then you don’t know when you’re well off. Go away.”
“’Tisn’t that, miss—”
“What is it, then?”
Lizzie broke into a flood of tears.
Honoria, the younger by a year or so, stood and eyed her scornfully; then turning on her heel marched into the house.