"Mercy you can have all," and she handed out a small box containing a few trinklets of little intrinsic value, but which she prized most highly.
"You've got some rings there."
"My wedding ring, and one other."
"They are worth somethin'."
"They are worth a great deal to me, for one tells me of a happy past, the other of only sorrow."
"One was given by a lover, I guesses, and t'other by your husband."
"You are right."
"Well, I wants 'em."
"No! no! no! You would not take these."
"Come, I hain't no time to lose, for I'm wanted by the perlice, and to pertect mysel', I'll jist tie you up, and put a bandage on that music-box o' yourn, so you sha'n't shout when I gets out."