Are you going
through your life like that--men loving you and you leaving them?"
"You're talking nonsense, Hannah. You know nothing about it," cried
Lavinia angrily. "Let me manage my own affairs my own way and tell me
what mother's doing. You read me a riddle about her just now."
"'Tisn't much of a riddle. It's just what one might guess she'd do when
she's on the scent for money. You've become mighty valuable to her all
of a sudden."
"I! Valuable? Oh la! That's too funny."
"You think so, do you child? Wait till you hear. _I_ call it a monstrous
shame an' downright wicked. A mother sell her own child! It's
horrible--horrible."
"What are you talking about, you tiresome Hannah?" cried the girl
opening her eyes very wide.
"Ah, you may well ask. After you was locked up she pocketted that letter
from your spark and off she went to his lodgings in the Temple. She well
plied herself with cordials an' a drop o' gin or two afore she started,
an' my name's not Hannah if she didn't repeat the dose as she came back.
I knowed it at once by her red face an' her tongue a-wagging nineteen to
the dozen. She can't keep her mouth shut when she's like that. It all
comed out. She'd been to that Mr. Der--Dor--what's his name?"
"Dorrimore. Yes--yes. Go on. I want to hear," exclaimed Lavinia
breathlessly.
"I wouldn't ha' said a word agen her if she'd insisted upon the fine
young gentleman paying for his frolic a trying to fool you--which he
didn't do an' you may thank yourself for your sperrit Miss Lavvy--that
was only what a mother ought to do, but to sell her own child to make
money out of her own flesh an' blood--well I up an' told her to her face
what I thought of her.
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