She turned pained, troubled eyes on the scoffer, making as if to rise.
“What have I said in my innocence?”
“Nothing at all,” says he. “Your innocence never spoke a word. But, by God! your looks are voluble. I’ faith, you’re the sweetest darling, Mrs. Moll, and for that I’ll be your friend, if you will, as a decent young gentleman should. What would you have me do? Find your husband for you?”
“Alack! Is that to be my friend?”
“The best, maybe—but by and by. Who knows? He may come to serve us with royalty yet. Do you trust me, Moll?”
“Sure a poor girl like me must live on trust.”
“So she must, and live very well too. Did that rogue of a landlord really keep you fast?”
“On my honour he did.”
“Don’t swear by false idols.”
“What have I said now?”