“‘Look here, my good woman,’ said the man, in a low quiet tone; ‘look me straight in the face, and let us talk quietly.’ She obeyed; and taking her pipe from her mouth, fixed her gaggle green eyes on his. His cool determined manner seemed to exercise a novel influence upon her unsettled mind.
“‘This poor girl can be of little use to you; I should think, on the contrary, she would be in your way?”
“‘Oh, yes, she’s a deal of trouble to me; so bad, I can’t—’ She left the sentence unfinished, and began smoking her pipe again, as she bent over the fire.
“‘I’ve taken a fancy to the child,’ he continued, ‘and came back with her to-night, to offer you whatever sum you should ask, if you would give her to me; I wish to bring her up, and educate her to the stage.’
“‘It’s satan’s own home; no, I’ll never consent that she shall be made an actress. I mean to bring her up as I was brought up, to be a wandering gipsy girl.’
“‘She is not your child, that is quite certain?’
“‘No, she is not mine.’
“‘How did you obtain her? did you steal her?’
“‘I shall not tell you.’
“He took a purse of gold from his pocket, and shook it between his hands; the old woman eyed it eagerly; ‘come my good woman, you had better consent to let me have the child; you may one day have the satisfaction of seeing her a distinguished woman, and of knowing that it is the same being you once took care of.’