“Don’t be frightened,” she said, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
He stopped laughing just long enough to answer her.
“Lor’ no, miss,” he said, “by no manner o’ means. I’m a dear friend o’ yer Par’s, come to make a evenin’ call, an’ not a wishin’ to trouble the servants, I stepped in through the winder.”
“Ah!” said Editha, looking very gravely at him; “I see you are joking with me, as papa does sometimes. But what I wanted to say to you was this: Papa has gone to Scotland, and all our servants are women, and mamma would be so frightened if you were to waken her, that I am sure it would make her ill. And if you are going to burgle, would you please burgle as quietly as you can, so that you wont disturb her?”
The burglar stopped laughing, and, staring at her, once more uttered his vulgar exclamation:
“Well, I’ll be blowed!”
“Why don’t you say ‘I’ll be blown?’” asked Editha. “I’m sure it isn’t correct to say you’ll be blowed.”
She thought he was going off into one of his unaccountable fits of laughter again, but he did not; he seemed to check himself with an effort.
“There haint no time to waste,” she heard him mutter.