"Let me see them," said the relentless Molly.
"There is not much left to see."
"Was it you that tasted them?"
"Me and Joe, miss. He was hungry."
"Then you and Joe will die, Tim," cried the tormentor in a melancholy voice.
Tim's face became gloomy, while Joe Adams rubbed his eyes with his knuckles.
"No, miss. Don't be saying that," sighed Tim, now thoroughly repentant.
"Yes, you will—and so will I—and the doctor, too."
"I really am ashamed of you, Molly. This is persecution of an innocent boy."
The big, gaunt man, with deeply-lined face and iron grey moustache, who had paused to smile at the conversation, feigned an expression of disapproval as she looked up smilingly into his face.