"Oh, glory! them stairs'll be the death of me. Give me a drop of water,
for the love of heaven, Bet, my dear. Oh, then, 'tis me as is the good
frind to you; but 'tis black mischief as they're brewing agin' you,
honey, and no mistake."
Here Mother Bunch recovered her breath, and Having taken a sip or two
of the water which Bet gave her in a cracked teacup, began to pour out
her tale.
"Come close to me, honey," she said, "for it's thrue as walls has ears,
and when them as means mischief is abroad you're never safe, come what
may. But we'll spite them, see if we don't--we'll be even with them--you
and me, and the sailor boy. Oh, ochone, ochone!--but it's, a black
world entirely!"
"What have you heard, Mrs. O'Flaherty?" asked Bet. She was trembling
now, for Mother Bunch's evident perturbation had infected her. "Tell
me the whole story, Mrs. O'Flaherty--you bring my heart into my mouth
when you look at me like that, and don't tell me what the real matter
is."
"Treachery's the matter, darlint--and a mane, cowardly trick to ruin
an honest man, and to give the handsomest girl in Liverpool to a
villain.
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