“Away, I say; go to the kitchen. I have no time to lose.”
“Money! blessings, blessings on you and God—money!” She seemed still in ignorance of Andrew’s request that she would withdraw.
“Away, I say, I must be alone; away to the kitchen, and leave me alone; but let the men come here in a few minutes and take what they have purchased.”
He spoke with a strange energy. She obeyed him at last, and left the room: she remembered afterward that his face was like that of a dead man when he addressed her.
She returned to the kitchen. The two men were seated where she had left them, and were conversing together: their strong Irish accent told at once their country. Mrs. Carson paid no attention to them; she neither spoke to them nor looked at them; she held tightly clasped in her hand the few gold coins her son had given her; she walked about like one half distracted, addressing audible thanksgiving to God one instant, and the next felicitating herself in an insane manner on having at last obtained some money. The two men commented on her strange manners, and agreed that she was mad, stating their opinions aloud to each other, but she did not hear them.
The noise and quarreling on the street continued for some time, and the men manifested no impatience while it lasted. All became quiet after a time; the desertion and silence of night seemed at last to have settled down on the street. The two men then manifested a strong wish to finish the business on which they had come.
“I say, whereabouts is it—where’s the snatch, my good woman?” said one of the men, addressing Mrs. Carson.
She looked on him and his companion with amazement mingled with something of fear, for the aspects of both were expressive of low ruffianism.
“She’s mad, don’t you see,” said the one who had not addressed her.
The other cursed deeply, saying that as they had given part payment, they would get their errand, or their money back again.