They offered the woman sixpences, and blushes, because through the tattered shawl might be seen a shrunken bosom.
The woman stared, stammered, and burst into tears.
"We shall miss Chapel," John repeated.
"Hang Chapel," said Desmond.
He was looking at the child. When the woman took the silver, she let the child slip to the ground, where it lay inert.
"What's the matter with it?" said Desmond.
Half sobbing, the woman explained that the child had sprained its ankle.
"I'm just about done," she gasped; "an' the sight o' you two young gen'lemen runnin' up the 'ill finished me. I ain't the leaky sort," she added fiercely, still gasping and trembling.
Then she bent down and tried to lift the heavy child, which moaned feebly.
"You run on, Jonathan," said Desmond.