She leaned forward on her elbows, and said imperatively, 'Tell
Pennyloaf to make it up with her again.'
'Why?'
'Because I want to know what goes on in Hanover Street. You was a
fool to send her away, and you'd ought to have told me about it
before now. If they was such friends, I suppose the girl told her
lots o' things. But I expect they see each other just the same. You
don't suppose she does all _you_ tell her?'
'I'll bet you what you like she does!' cried Bob.
Clem glared at him.
'Oh, you an' your Pennyloaf! Likely she tells you the truth. You're
so fond of each other, ain't you! Tells you everything, does she?--and
the way you treat her!'
'Who's always at me to make me treat her worse still?' Bob retorted
half angrily, half in expostulation.
'Well, and so I am, 'cause I hate the name of her! I'd like to hear
as you starve her and her brats half to death. How much money did
you give her last week? Now you just tell me the truth. How much was
it?'
'How can I remember? Three or four bob, I s'pose.'
'Three or four bob!' she repeated, snarling. 'Give her one, and make
her live all the week on it. Wear her down! Make her pawn all she
has, and go cold!'
Her cheeks were on fire; her eyes started in the fury of jealousy;
she set her teeth together.
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