"What are you sorry for? It won't hurt me, any how; and it would be an awful thing for you. They were going to make a tinker of me before, and I suppose they will do it now—if they can. I wouldn't care a fig for it if Miss Bertha didn't feel so bad about it."
"I will tell her the truth."
"Don't you do it, Miss Fanny. That wouldn't help me a bit, and will spoil you."
"But I must tell the truth. They don't suspect me even of going on the water."
"So much the better. They won't ask you any hard questions. Now, Miss Fanny, don't you say a word; for if you do, it will make it all the worse for me."
"Why so, Noddy?"
"Because, according to my notion, I did set the building afire. If I hadn't said what I did, you never would have thought of doing it. So I was the fellow that did it, after all. That's the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."
"But you didn't set it afire, and you didn't mean to do any such thing."
"That may be; but you wouldn't have done it if it hadn't been for me. It was more my fault than it was yours; and I want you to leave the thing just where it is now."
"But it would be mean for me to stand still, and see you bear all the blame."