“Take her down to the cells,” he said briefly, and they led her away, a wailing, woeful figure of amateur larcenist.
In three minutes Mansus was with T. X. and had reduced the girl's incoherence to something like order.
“This is important,” said T. X.; “produce the Abigail.”
“The—?” asked the puzzled officer.
“The skivvy—slavey—hired help—get busy,” said T. X. impatiently.
They brought her to T. X. in a condition bordering upon collapse.
“Get her a cup of tea,” said the wise chief. “Sit down, Mary Ann, and forget all your troubles.”
“Oh, sir, I've never been in this position before,” she began, as she flopped into the chair they put for her.
“Then you've had a very tiring time,” said T. X. “Now listen—”
“I've been respectable—”