'You nasty mean, prying little cat!' she said; 'and me getting you jelly and custard, and I don't know what all.'
'I'm not,' said Molly. 'Don't, Clements; you hurt.'
'You deserve me to,' was the reply. 'Doesn't she, Mrs. Williams?'
'Don't you know it's wrong to listen, miss?' asked Mrs. Williams.
'I didn't listen,' said Molly indignantly. 'You were simply shouting. No one could help hearing. Me and Jane would have had to put our fingers in our ears not to hear.'
'I didn't think it of you,' said Clements, beginning to sniff.
'I don't know what you're making all this fuss about,' said Molly; 'I'm not a sneak.'
'Have a piece of cake, miss,' said Mrs. Williams, 'and give me your word it shan't go any further.'
'I don't want your cake; you'd better give it to Clements. It's she that tells things—not me.'
Molly began to cry.