I told you how that night
when I had the misfortune to go and see your aunt and look after her
sick child, some one came into the shop and stole nineteen-and-sixpence
out of the till. I am so short from the loss of that money that I can't
pay Aunt Church for at least another week. Ask her if she'll be kind
enough to give me a week's grace, Tom; that's a good boy. I can't think
how the money was stolen."
"Why don't you put it into the hands of the police?" said Tom.
"Why, Tom," said his mother, looking at him with admiration, "you are a
smart boy. Do you know, I never thought of that. I will go round to the
police-station this very afternoon and get Police-Constable Macartney to
take it up."
"But, mother, the thief, whoever he is, has left the place long before
now. The money was stolen on Wednesday, and this is Saturday morning."
"Well, Tom, there's no saying. Anyhow, I will go round to the
police-station and lodge the information."
Accordingly, while Susy was again trying on her lovely pale-blue
cashmere blouse behind locked doors upstairs, Tom and his mother were
plotting how best to cover the loss of the nineteen-and-sixpence.
Naughty Susy, having made up her mind to deny herself a new frock and
new boots, had given the matter no further consideration. She was
accustomed to the fact that her mother was always in money difficulties.
As long as she could remember, this was the state of things at home.
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