Chapter XIX. Diamond's Friends

           

           ONEdaywhenoldDiamondwasstandingwithhisnoseinhisbagbetweenPallMallandCockspurStreet,andhismasterwasreadingthenewspaperontheboxofhiscab,whichwasthelastofagoodmanyintherow,littleDiamondgotdownforarun,forhislegsweregettingcrampedwithsitting.Andfirstofallhestrolledwithhishandsinhispocketsuptothecrossing,wherethegirlandherbroomweretobefoundinallweathers.Justashewasgoingtospeaktoher,atallgentlemansteppeduponthecrossing.Hewaspleasedtofinditsoclean,forthestreetsweremuddy,andhehadnicebootson;soheputhishandinhispocket,andgavethegirlapenny.Butwhenshegavehimasweetsmileinreturn,andmadehimaprettycourtesy,helookedatheragain,andsaid:

           “Wheredoyoulive,mychild?”

           “ParadiseRow,”sheanswered;“nextdoortotheAdamandEve—downthearea.”

           “Whomdoyoulivewith?”heasked.

           “Mywickedoldgrannie,”shereplied.

           “Youshouldn’tcallyourgranniewicked,”saidthegentleman.

           “Butsheis,”saidthegirl,lookingupconfidentlyinhisface.“Ifyoudon’tbelieveme,youcancomeandtakealookather.”

           Thewordssoundedrude,butthegirl’sfacelookedsosimplethatthegentlemansawshedidnotmeantoberude,andbecamestillmoreinterestedinher.

           “Stillyoushouldn’tsayso,”heinsisted.

           “Shouldn’tI?Everybodycallsherwickedoldgrannie—eventhemthat’saswickedasher.Youshouldhearherswear.There’snothinglikeitintheRow.

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