“Dursn’t.”
“Yes, yes, you dare. Pray, pray don’t say that I have no one to ask but you. Oh, Becky, Becky, I am so unhappy. If you have a woman’s heart within your breast, have pity on me!”
“Gug!”
A spasm contracted the pallid face as a violent sob escaped from her lips, and the tears began to flow from the dilated eyes, and were accompanied by unpleasant sniffs.
“Don’t make me cr-cr-cry, miss, please.”
“No, no, don’t cry, Becky dear, pray,” whispered Kate, anxiously.
“You make me, miss—going on like that; and d-don’t call me dear, please. I ain’t dear to nobody; I’m a miserable wretch.”
“I always pitied you, Becky, but you never would let me be kind to you.”
“N-no, miss. It don’t do no good. On’y makes me mis’rable.”
“But I must be; I will be kind to you, Becky, and try and make you happy,” whispered Kate.