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Maxwell, W. B., 1866-1938

"The Devil's Garden"


"No, mum, she don't want un. But he wants she."
And, astonishing as it might seem, this was truly the case. The
higgler had fallen in love with Mary; and she, apparently without a
single explicit word, had understood the nature of the emotion that
stirred his breast. He had somehow surrounded her with an atmosphere
of admiration--anyhow he had made her understand.
Mavis laughed gaily, and chaffed Mary about her conquest; and
henceforth she more or less obliterated herself when this visitor
called, and allowed the servant to conduct all transactions with him.
Mary was always very stern, disparaging his goods, and beating down
his prices; while he stood sheepishly grinning, and in no wise
protesting against her harshness. He now of course stayed longer than
ever, indeed only withdrew when Mary indignantly drove him away.
"Be off, can't you?" cried Mary. "I'm ashamed of you."
"Haw, haw," chuckled Mrs. Goudie. "Don't she peck at un fierce."
"Yes, Mary," and Mrs. Dale laughed, much amused. "I do think you're
rather cruel to him."
"'Twill be t'other way roundabout one day, Mary, preaps."
Then Mary tossed her head and bustled at her work. "I ain't afeard o'
that day, Mrs. Goudie. He isn't going the right way to win me, I can
tell him.


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