"An' that won't last long, Pollyooly, my dear," said Mrs. Brown gloomily.
"But on Saturday there'll be another ten shillings—five shillings from Mr. Ruffin and five shillings from Mr. Gedge-Tomkins; and perhaps I'll go on doing their work for quite a long time," said Pollyooly, still undismayed.
"That's too much to 'ope," said Mrs. Brown, her words and tone once more belying her naturally cheerful face.
"They don't know that Aunt Hannah's dead," said Pollyooly.
"They'll 'ear," said Mrs. Brown conscientiously, in the same comforting vein.
"They won't hear from me," said Pollyooly curtly.
"But if they know how bad she. was, they'll 'ave bin expectin' 'er to die," said Mrs. Brown.
"They only know that she's ill. I didn't tell them that it was an accident, and how bad it was. And I'm not going to tell them she's dead. I'm going to go on doing her work just as long as I can," said Pollyooly in the same tone of cold resolution.
"Lord, Pollyooly, what lies you'll have to tell!
