"I am just going to take these things home and get more work. I am
sure of being paid, and you shall have all I get. But, for Heaven's
sake, give me time."
Two days and a night of almost uninterrupted labor had given a
severe strain to her nerves, and left her in a dangerous state.
Something in her face arrested Mrs. Flint's attention; she observed
that Christie was putting on her best cloak and hat, and to her
suspicious eye the bundle of work looked unduly large.
It had been a hard day for the poor woman, for the cook had gone off
in a huff; the chamber girl been detected in petty larceny; two
desirable boarders had disappointed her; and the incapable husband
had fallen ill, so it was little wonder that her soul was tried, her
sharp voice sharper, and her sour temper sourer than ever.
"I have heard of folks putting on their best things and going out,
but never coming back again, when they owed money. It's a mean
trick, but it's sometimes done by them you wouldn't think it of,"
she said, with an aggravating sniff of intelligence.
To be suspected of dishonesty was the last drop in Christie's full
cup. She looked at the woman with a strong desire to do something
violent, for every nerve was tingling with irritation and anger.
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