So saying, she put sixpence into my purse, which I had opened while I was speaking.
'Generous angel!' cried I.
'Now we are in partnership, a'nt we?' said she.
'Yes, sweet innocent,' answered I, 'we are partners in grief.'
'And as grief is dry,' cried she, 'we will go moisten it.'
'And where shall we moisten it, Maria?' said I.
'In a pothouse,' cried she. 'It will do us good.'
'O my Maria!' said I, 'never, never!'
'Why then give me back my sixpence,' cried she, snatching at my purse; but I held it fast, and, springing from her, ran away.
'Stop thief, stop thief!' vociferated she.