"Well, missis, what do yer think o' this gal now?" asked a man's voice.
"Just what I thought before—she'll be worth her weight in gold to us by and by, when she's broke in a bit."
"Ah! How do you make that out?" asked the man between the slow puffs of tobacco smoke he emitted from his mouth.
"How? Why, just this way. Our Tottie is well-nigh broke up with being among the wax-works so much, an' if she ain't soon took out of it, she'll be ill. But took out now, as I mean she shall be, she'll soon pick up enough of what I can teach her from the cards, and the lines on the hand, to tell a good fortune, and that'll pay better than all the wax-works, specially among the gents at the races, for Tottie'll pick up good looks when once she's out o' that beastly wax-work van."
"Eh! You're a deep un, Mother Stanley," said the man with a short admiring laugh.
"You've got to be in these days," said the woman.
"An' so you persuaded the little fool to join our company to release Tottie."
"Ah! But I didn't tell her that," put in Mrs. Stanley.
Lizzie knew her voice now, and sat up on her sack of straw to listen more intently. "I told her she'd be worth her weight in gold, but I didn't tell her I should have the handling of it, and of course she thought it would be for herself. I knew my lady the moment I set eyes on her. I could see by the way she looked that Sunday night, she'd be ready to do anything for the chance of getting away from steady work, so I laid my plans according. Bless you, it wasn't much trouble to persuade her, she was ready to swallow any bait and—"
"But I've heard you say you'd never take a gal away from her mother. Ain't this one got no friends?" asked the man.