And the girl promised.
It was Biddy’s business to put the family silver away in the vault every night, and this evening Benson could not get her out soon enough.
“Will you hurry, Irish?” said he insultingly, as he and the Jew laughed.
“I am hurrying,” said she, “as fast as I can.”
“And I want to tell you another thing, Biddy,” commanded Benson, “I saw your cousin Jim about here this evening, and if I see him again I shall hand him over to the police.”
The woman started visibly.
“It isn’t my fault that he comes,” said she, shoving one after another of the heavy plates inside. “Here, I will get the rest.”
“No,” replied Benson, “not now; I am in a hurry to finish with Mr. Nathans. You can come in later.”
As the woman went into the dining-room she came upon her cousin.
“Jim,” commenced she, “you’d better not let Mr. Benson see you about here, for he said he would give you over to the police if he did.”