Page:Arthur Stringer - The Hand of Peril.djvu/312

 An' didn't you let her go when you thought you had her wit' the goods? An' ain't she always mooned round about you an' had blinders on for ev'rybody else? She was stuck on you! An' that's as true as Gawd made little green apples!"

Kestner was on his feet by this time. There was a light of resentment in the world-weary eyes, a look that was almost defiance about the grim line of the mouth.

"I won't have you say a thing like that!" he contended.

"Oh, I've been tellin' her a few things myself this past month. An' she was about as high an' mighty as you're tryin' to be now. But if she wants to make a monkey of herself, that ain't my business. I've got my own reason for handin' out this bunch o' talk, an' I guess you'd better cool down an' listen to it."

Kestner swung about on her.

"If you've got an object in talking this way, I want to know it, and know it quick."

There was a touch of perverseness in her languid unconcern as she went on.

"Y' know, Maura Lambert was never cut out for the brand o' work that I've been doin'. She's not my kind. In the first place, she's too thin-skinned. In the second place, she couldn't get away wit' a lie in a month o' Sundays. She's about as green as grass. Lambert kept her caged up like a white mouse. And when he dropped out she was as alone as a she-lamb that'd fallen off a sheep-train. She saw what she wanted. She decided she was goin' t' go straight. But that's easier t' say than do. She got in wrong, at the start. An' when people know she can do the work