“But who are you who seem to know so much about my family?”
“I’m a friend of the pore girl you’ve driven from the house, because she would not marry a rascally spalpeen that’s been schemin’ to get your property into his hands.”
“You’re a friend of Florence? Where is she?”
“She’s in my house, and has been there ever since she left her home.”
“Is she—well?”
“As well as she can be whin she’s been workin’ her fingers to the bone wid sewin’ to keep from starvin’.”
“My God! what have I done?”
“You’ve let Curtis Waring wind you around his little finger—that’s what you’ve done, Mr. Linden.”
“How soon can I see Florence?”
“How soon can you bear it?”