Con. Don't let her say bad words: I can't bear them. I think it's because I was so used to them once—in the streets, I mean—not at home—never at home.
Mat. She don't often, miss. She's a good-hearted creature. It's only when hunger makes her cross. She don't like to be hungry.
Con. I should think not, poor girl!
Mat. Don't mind what she says, please. If you say nothing, she'll come all right. When she's spoken her mind, she feels better. Here she comes!
Re-enter SUSAN. It begins to grow dark.
Sus. Well, and who have we got here?
Mat. Miss Lacordère, Sukey.
Sus. There's no lack o' dare about her, to come here!
Mat. It's very kind of her to come, Susan.
Sus. I tell you what, miss: that parcel was stole. It was stole, miss!—stole from me—an' that angel there a dyin' in the street!