"The pockets don't belong to her, Dotty, and never did. They never
came out of any of her dresses--now did they?"
Dotty's eyes swelled like a couple of bubbles ready to burst.
"Jennie Vance, I didn't know you's a thief."
"You stop talking so, Dotty. She was going to sweep everything into
the rag-bag--now wasn't she? And this money would have gone in too, if
it hadn't been for my sharp eyes--now wouldn't it?"
"But it isn't yours, Jennie Vance--because it don't belong to you."
"Now, Dotty--"
"You go right off, Jennie Vance, and carry it to my grandma this
minute."
The tone of command irritated Jennie. She had not felt at all decided
about keeping the money, but opposition gave her courage. Her temper
and Dotty's were always meeting and striking fire.
"It isn't your grandma's pockets, Miss Parlin. If it was the last word
I was to speak, it isn't your grandmother's pockets!"
"Jane Sidney Vance!"
"You needn't call me by my middle name, and stare so at me, Dotty
Dimple. I was going to give you half!"
"What do I want of half, when it isn't yours to give?" said Dotty,
gazing regretfully at the money, nevertheless.
Pages:
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72