“Yes.”
“Don’t bring one back; if you do Crisp’ll settle ye.”
The last sentence decided the matter.
“No,” Zula answered, “I won’t bring any back.”
CHAPTER IV.
THE ESCAPE.
She took the basket and started for the city. She was very lucky for she sold more than she expected. The afternoon had nearly passed before her stock was gone. She wandered down High street, giving her basket to a little Irish beggar girl. She had not the slightest idea of where she should go, but she had made up her mind never to go back to Crisp and his mother, and if she were compelled to lie in the street she would never go back to live the life she had led.
“Out of the road, you little beggar,” called out a finely dressed boy, who was riding a bicycle, at the same time striking the wheels against Zula’s limbs and tearing an ugly rent in the flesh.
She turned quickly and catching the wheel held it as she looked straight into the boy’s face.