“Then I will answer a magistrate,” said Dawtie, beginning to grow angry.
“You had better answer me, Dawtie. It will be easier for you. What do you know about the cup?”
“I know it was not master's, and is not yours—really and truly.”
“What can have put such a lie in your head?”
“If it be a lie, sir, it is told in plain print.”
“Where?”
But Dawtie judged it time to stop. She bethought herself that she would not have said so much had she not been angry.
“Sir,” she answered, “you have been asking me questions all this time, and I have been answering them; it is your turn to answer me one.”
“If I see proper.”
“Did my old master tell you the history of that cup?”