And when Harold said faintly, 'Ask Jerry; she knows,' she did
pounce upon Tom, not bodily, but with her tongue, pouring out her words
so rapidly and mingling with them so much German that it was almost
impossible to understand all she said.
'You miserable, good-for-nothing, nasty fellow,' she began. 'Do you dare
accuse Harold of stealing! Stealing! You, who are not fit to tie his
shoes! And do you want to know why he was here that morning? I can tell
you; but no, I won't tell _you_! I won't speak to you! I'll never speak
to you again; and if you try to kiss me as you did the other day,
I'll--I'll scratch out every single one of your eyes! _You_ twit Harold
for being poor, and call him a charity! What are you but a charity
yourself, I'd like to know! Is this your house? No, sir! It is Mr.
Arthur's! Everything is Mr. Arthur's, and if you don't quit being so
mean to Harold I'll tell him every single nasty thing I know about you!
Then see what he will do!'
As Jerry warmed with her subject, every look, every gesture, and every
tone of her voice was like Arthur's, and Frank watched with a
fascination which made him forget everything else, until she turned
suddenly to him, and in her own peculiar style and language told him why
Harold had come to the park house that morning when the diamonds were
missing.
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