How could
I?" asked she reproachfully.
"Oh--I forgot. You were all for that stupid James Wilson. Well! if
I've ever the luck to go witness on a trial, see if I don't pick up
a better beau than the prisoner. I'll aim at a lawyer's clerk, but
I'll not take less than a turnkey."
Cast down as Mary was, she could hardly keep from smiling at the
idea, so wildly incongruous with the scene she had really undergone,
of looking out for admirers during a trial for murder.
"I'd no thought to be looking out for beaux, I can assure you,
Sally. But don't let us talk any more about it; I can't bear to
think on it. How is Miss Simmonds? and everybody?"
"Oh, very well; and by the way, she gave me a bit of a message for
you. You may come back to work if you'll behave yourself, she says.
I told you she'd be glad to have you back, after all this piece of
business, by way of tempting people to come to her shop. They'd
come from Salford to have a peep at you, for six months at least."
"Don't talk so; I cannot come, I can never face Miss Simmonds again.
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