“ ‘An’ ye’ll do me washing,’ says he, ‘or ye’ll go to gaol.’ ‘An’ it’s to gaol I’ll go,’ says she, an’ for all I told her what to say she sat there an’ she wouldn’t speak. She was given in charge, brought before the Bench an’ as I’m a living sinner they gave her fourteen days. The Master never said a word it was his own washing, an’ the poor creature never had the wit to speak up for herself.”

“And how did you come into the story, Kitty?”

“You wait an’ listen, me dear. When he was through with giving the poor thing to the police, he comes to me an’ wants to start me washing the floor. I didn’t argue, I just said, quite quiet, ‘But, Master, that’s not the law, an’ none should know it better than you⁠—an’ me belly is empty an’ on an empty belly the law says you mustn’t put me to work. An’ I’ll be pleased an’ proud to tell the Bench the same.’ ”