“Well, she cannot,” said Benson, looking crossly at the Irishwoman.
“Then, I stay right here. Do you understand? And I would like to see any law drag a girl twenty years old to a place that she simply won’t go. Now, gentlemen, what are you going to do?”
This was a sticker, and George Benson and the detective talked in low tones, while Nellie placed her arms about her lover’s neck.
“Don’t you worry, Tom, about going, for you won’t be there long. Now then, when you go away you are to write to me every day, and I will to you, and just as soon as I find a good lawyer you shall be free.”
“We have decided to allow you to take your friend Biddy with you for a while,” said the detective affably, “if, when Mr. Benson finds a lady of your own rank, you will be satisfied to allow this woman to go.”
Nellie plumped herself down again in her chair.
“I won’t agree to any such thing. Biddy’s been my mother for years, and if Mr. Benson doesn’t want her in his house, then I won’t go. I don’t want a lady of any different rank than myself, and Biddy is my choice. So there.”
Tom smiled at her from his corner, and the sight made Benson furious.
Again the two gentlemen conferred, while Nathans took it upon himself to argue with the girl.
“Look a-here, Mr. Jew,” cried Nellie, “you just mind your business. No one has asked you to live with my Biddy, and Mr. Benson needn’t live with us either. If I have all the money you say I have then I can make a home for Biddy and me until I can get my Tom out.”