“No, poor thing!” she said. “And it’s a pity she’s Mr. Skindle’s mother, for he makes her do all the chares of his big new house.”
“Well, but she’s a woman, ain’t she?” he asked with unexpected lack of sympathy. “She’d have to do her husband’s chares.”
“Not at her age!”
“At her age? Annie’s a young woman.”
“Compared with you, perhaps,” she smiled.
“Git over me, her having a lad that size. Oi count she’s worritin’ over him, cooped up in Frog Farm.”
“Not now. They’re all safely out of it.”
“What! That pirate thief’s got safe!”
“Thank God!”
“That ain’t God’s doin’—that’s some evil interferin’ sperrit what comes out o’ dead bodies, says John Wesley. Who took ’em off?” he demanded fiercely.