And she so white-haired and so regular at church: and the black
bonnet on the head of her, an' all! "It was the only little one she
had," went on the widow, bowed almost to the bar by shame, "and it
always perched up on her knee, and taking food from her mouth, and she
nursing it agin her face. But I had bad teeth in me head, and I
couldn't get my rest, with the jaws aching, and all the whiles it
screeching with the croup. 'Twould madden you!"
"All the same," Deasey whispered, "maybe it wasn't your fault: 'twas
maybe your man egged you on to do the shameful deed----"
"It was so," said the widow. "'Let you get up and cut its throat,' says
he, 'and then we will be shut of the domned screechin' thing.'" "Then
you got the knife, ma'am," prompted Deasey. "It was the bread-knife,"
she answered, "with the ugly notches in the blade,--and I stole in the
back way to her place in the dead hours of the night--and I had me
apron handy for to quench the cries; and when I c'ot it be the throat
didn't it look up at me with the two bright, innocent eyes!"
"And what'd you do with the body?" he asked.
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