“I wonder,” he said, and went off at a tangent. "It seems like six long months to me. Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. She breathed deeply. She moved her hand off of his knee, deliberately slow. Then she saw him. He had not to wait long. Me—I’m nothing but a country wench, and one who went to the bad. "Devilish strange!" thought he, chuckling to himself; "queer business! Capital trick of the cull in the cloak to make another person's brat stand the brunt for his own—capital! ha! ha! Won't do, though. It was no wonder, there was no money to buy food for the house. Humph.
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