"Hugh!"
The candle flared a pale yellow light over the cobwebbed brick walls, and the woman standing there. He looked at her. She was young, in deadly earnest; her faded eyes, and wet, ragged figure caught from their frantic eagerness a power akin to beauty.
"Hugh, it is true! Money ull do it! Oh, Hugh, boy, listen till me! He said it true! It is money!"
"I know. Go back! I do not want you here."
"Hugh, it is t' last time. I 'II never worrit hur again."
There were tears in her voice now, but she choked them back.
"Hear till me only to-night! If one of t' witch people wud come, them we heard of t' home, and gif hur all hur wants, what then? Say, Hugh!"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean money.".
Her whisper shrilled through his brain.