She declined to take it. "I've got a
shilling or two, sir," she said; "and I can take care of myself. Give
it to Simple Sally."
"You'll save her a beating, sir, for one night at least," said the
other woman. "We call her Simple Sally, because she's a little soft,
poor soul--hasn't grown up, you know, in her mind, since she was a
child. Give her some of your change, sir, and you'll be doing a kind
thing."
All that is most unselfish, all that is most divinely compassionate and
self-sacrificing in a woman's nature, was as beautiful and as undefiled
as ever in these women--the outcasts of the hard highway!
Amelius turned to the girl. Her head had sunk on her bosom; she was
half asleep. She looked up as he approached her.
"Would you have been beaten to-night," he asked, "if you had not met
with me?"
"Father always beats me, sir," said Simple Sally, "if I don't bring
money home. He threw a knife at me last night. It didn't hurt much--it
only cut me here," said the girl, pointing to the plaster on her chin.
One of the women touched Amelius on the shoulder, and whispered to him.
"He's no more her father, sir, than I am.
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