Are you
going to set him loose again to roar and to devour?"
"He may reform," said poor Anne, beset by foe without
and traitor within.
"Reform your grandmother!" retorted Miss Cornelia.
"Dick Moore got the injuries that left him as he is in
a drunken brawl. He DESERVES his fate. It was sent on
him for a punishment. I don't believe the doctor has
any business to tamper with the visitations of God."
"Nobody knows how Dick was hurt, Miss Cornelia. It may
not have been in a drunken brawl at all. He may have
been waylaid and robbed."
"Pigs MAY whistle, but they've poor mouths for it,"
said Miss Cornelia. "Well, the gist of what you tell
me is that the thing is settled and there's no use in
talking. If that's so I'll hold my tongue. I don't
propose to wear MY teeth out gnawing files. When a
thing has to be I give in to it. But I like to make
mighty sure first that it HAS to be. Now, I'll devote
MY energies to comforting and sustaining Leslie. And
after all," added Miss Cornelia, brightening up
hopefully, "perhaps nothing can be done for Dick.
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