The waiter brought a check, and laid it beside her plate. It was marked 45 cents.
Tom walked up to the desk near the door, and paid her bill in an independent manner, as if she were accustomed to dine there every day. In making the payment she had drawn out her whole stock of money, and still held it in her hand as she stood on the sidewalk outside. She little guessed the risk she ran in doing so, or that the enemy she most dreaded was close at hand. For just at the moment Tom stood with her face towards Broadway, granny turned the corner of Nassau and Fulton Streets, and bore down upon her, her eyes sparkling with joy and anticipated triumph. She was not alone. With her was a man of thirty-five, bold and reckless in expression, but otherwise with the dress and appearance of a gentleman.
“There’s the gal now!” said granny, in excitement.
“Where?” said her companion, sharing her excitement.
“There, in front of that eating-house.”
“The one with her back towards us?”
“Yes. Don’t say a word, and I’ll creep up and get hold of her.”
Tom was about to put back her money in her pocket, when she felt her arm seized in a firm grasp. Turning in startled surprise, she met the triumphant glance of her old granny.
“Let me alone!” said Tom, fiercely, trying to snatch away her arm.
“I’ve got you, have I?” said granny. “I knowed I’d get hold of you at last, you young trollop! Come home with me, right off!”