"It's such a temptation," remarked Jelly to a select few, one night at Ketler's, whither she had betaken herself to blow up the man for continuing to keep out on strike, to which movement Jelly was a determined foe.
"A temptation?" rejoined Tim Wilks respectfully, who made one of her audience. "In what way, Miss Jelly?"
"In what way," retorted Jelly with scorn. "Why in the way of stealing the money, if it's to be got at; or of punching those two old bankers' heads. When a man's kept out of his own through nothing but some crotchet, it's enough to make him feel desperate, Tim Wilks."
"So it is," acquiesced meek Timothy.
"If my mistress withheld my wages from me--which is twenty pounds a-year, and her left-off silks--I should fight, I know: perhaps take them. And this is two thousand pounds."
"Two thousand pounds!" ejaculated honest Ketler in low tones of reverence, as he lifted his hands. "And for the doctor to be kept out of it because his wife's not dead! It is a shame."
"I wouldn't say, either, but it might bring another sort of temptation to some men, besides those mentioned by Miss Jelly," put in Timothy Wilks with hesitation.
"And pray what would that be?" demanded Jelly tartly--for she made it a point to keep Timothy under before company.
"The putting his wife out of the way on purpose to get the money, Miss Jelly," spoke Tim with deprecation. And the words caused a sudden pause.
"You--you don't mean murdering her!" shrieked Mrs. Ketler, who was a timid woman and given to being startled.