Tom saw that she had incautiously incurred a great peril; but she had no idea of being dragged away unresisting. She was quick-witted, and saw that, if she chose to deny all knowledge of the old woman, granny would find it hard to substantiate her claims.
“Stop that, old woman!” she said, without the least appearance of fear. “If you don’t let go, I’ll have you arrested!”
“You will, will you?” exclaimed granny, giving her a shake viciously. “We’ll see about that. Where’d you get all them good clothes from? Come along home.”
“Let me alone!” said Tom. “You’ve got nothing to do with me.”
“Got nothing to do with you? Aint I your granny?”
“You must be crazy,” said Tom, coolly. “My grandmother don’t go round the streets, begging for cold victuals.”
“Do you mean to say I’m not your granny?” demanded the old woman, astounded.
“I don’t know what you mean,” said Tom, coolly. “You’d better go home to your five small children in Bleecker Street.”
“O you trollop!” muttered granny, giving her a violent shaking; which reminded Tom of old times in not the most agreeable manner.
“Come, old woman, that’s played out!” said Tom. “You’d better stop that.”