“Well, we are going to lose them; they’ve been claimed by their brother, it seems.”
“What!” cried Lily. “Their brother? The ... the Mexican one?”
“Yes, I think so,” said Jimmy. “He’s come back from South America. He is in Paris now ... somewhere in a penny show, in the suburbs ... I don’t know where ... with a girl.”
“With a girl!” thought Lily.
Everything returned to her in a flash! The girl with the bruised skin ... that boy’s body all muscle ... Ave Maria! Ave Maria! Not dead! She felt inclined to run up to Trampy, to fly at his throat, to bellow in his face that Ave Maria was here, just to see the effect! But she restrained herself. Suppose it were not true? Oh, she would soon know! That footy rotter, if it were true! O God, grant that it might be true!
All this passed through her brain in less than a second.
“Why!” said Jimmy, seeing her turn pale. “Does that affect you so much ... the loss of your little friends, the Bambinis? For you’re going to lose them....”
“No, Jimmy!” she replied indignantly. “You shall not give up the Bambinis to their brother, a cruel, cowardly brute like that, right at the bottom of the profession. I know ... I’ve seen.... You shan’t do it, Jimmy, and, look here, I forbid you!”
“Well, Lily, Lily, I’ll do what I can, to please you, you know; I’ll try; I’ll see the police; you must give your evidence, if you have anything to say. Do you know, Lily, you are as good as gold. You’re a good little Lily: hard upon herself and kind to others.”