"What is it, 83?" asked Faith, expectantly. "Have you heard any news of
Mr. Watkins' condition?"
"Yes, and I've heard more'n that," said the little girl quickly, "but I
won't spring it all on you at once, for it might shock you, Miss
Marvin."
Faith was puzzled at her words, but she tried to restrain her eagerness
until the girl had given a package to a customer and come back to the
counter.
"Mr. Watkins is better--lots better," she said, gayly. "They say the
boss has been to see him in his howling swell carriage, and they've
fixed up the matter about the money all right; they must have, because
Sammy Watkins is back in his old position."
"Oh, that is lovely," cried Faith, clasping her hands together.
"Well, the rest ain't so lovely!" said the cash girl, grinning, "for I
saw Mag Brady on the street last night. She was drunk as a toper, and
she says she's a-goin' to 'do' you!"
"What!" gasped Faith, in astonishment as the cash girl finished, "Miss
Brady intoxicated! You surely don't mean it?"
"Oh, don't I?" said the child, with a worldly leer. "I mean lots more
than that, only I'm too nice to say it."
She walked away to answer another call while Faith stared first at Miss
Fairbanks and then at Miss Jones.
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