"What the blazes they wanted."
"Want your booze," cried the child, with an elfish laugh, as she shook back her tangled hair.
"Get out, you whelp," croaked the old hag, shaking one skinny fist at her, "or I'll tear yer 'eart out."
"Yes, she can go." said Kilsip, nodding to the girl, "and you can clear, too," he added, sharply, turning to the young man, who stood still holding the door open.
At first he seemed inclined to dispute the detective's order, but ultimately obeyed him, muttering, as he went out, something about "the blooming cheek of showin' swells cove's cribs." The child followed him out, her exit being accelerated by Mother Guttersnipe, who, with a rapidity only attained by long practice, seized the shoe from one of her feet, and flung it at the head of the rapidly retreating girl.
"Wait till I ketches yer, Lizer," she shrieked, with a volley of oaths, "I'll break yer 'ead for ye!"
Lizer responded with a shrill laugh of disdain, and vanished through the shaky door, which she closed after her.
When she had disappeared Mother Guttersnipe took a drink from the broken cup, and, gathering all her greasy cards together in a business-like way, looked insinuatingly at Calton, with a suggestive leer.
"It's the future ye want unveiled, dearie?" she croaked, rapidly shuffling the cards; "an' old mother 'ull tell—"
"No she won't," interrupted the detective, sharply. "I've come on business."