Read the maltese angel for Free Online Page B

Ward's voice held an anxious note.
    "Well' the woman shrugged her shoulders and the flesh on her body seemed to ripple 'not in a bad way, really; no life or death business.
    Yet, what am I talking about? It's her livelihood. Her feet are her fortune, you could say, and it'll be a week or two before she's able to go on the boards again. Yet she keeps rubbing it and declares she'll be all right for Sunderland next week. But she won't, will she. Ken?"
    She turned to the little man, who answered accordingly, "No, Flora; of course she won't. But she's got pluck. Oh yes, she's got pluck."
    "Do ... do you think ... I mean, do you think I might see her? Sort of be introduced to her? I ... I would like to make her acquaintance."
    The woman and the man looked at each other, their glances holding for some time before she, as if having come to a great decision, said with emphasis, "I don't see any reason, sir, why you shouldn't make her acquaintance. Sophia here seemed to have a good opinion of you, so, animals having much more sense than humans, I've always said so, and I would trust them any day in the week to give me the right answer, I would say, no, I don't see any obstacle that need be put in the way.
    Have you got a conveyance? "
    The word conveyance came out on a high note and with a change of
    tone;
    and when he had to confess that he was sorry he hadn't, only his horse, the woman laughed and her ah-la changed as she said, "Well, we can't all get on that, can we? And so, as it's only a stone's throw from here, where we are residing, we could all walk the distance, couldn't we? Good night, Harry."
    She was nodding towards the doorman, who replied, "Good night, Mrs.
    Killjoy. Good night, Mr. Killjoy." And the little man answered,
    "Good night. Harry."
    They were now in the street, Ward walking between the woman and the man, with the rain pelting down on them, and Mrs. Killjoy wiped it from her face as she enquired of him, "And what is your name, sir?"
    "I'm Hayward Gibson, but I'm usually called Ward."
    "Ward. It's an unusual Christian name ... Ward. Well, Mr. Gibson, you know our occupation, so may I enquire if your farm is a large farm or a small one. You see, we are town folk, and the only thing we seem to know is that farms belong to estates where small holdings don't."
    Ward smiled to himself at this diplomatic grilling, and he pursed his lip before he explained, "Well, my farm isn't held on lease to one of the landowners, by which I mean it isn't rented; it is a freehold farm, much bigger than a small holding but much smaller than some other farms in the country."
    "Well, that is a fair answer." She now turned towards him and smiled broadly as she said, "We cross over here, and then we are almost there.
    But to get back to the farmers: you see, we are very ignorant of the country, we people who live by the boards, for entertainments such as ours are performed in the town, you know, aren't they?"
    They were in the middle of the road now, and, halting suddenly, she held up a hand, as a constable might, to stop the approaching
    traffic.
    The astonished driver of a cab to one side of her and two boys pushing a flat cart to the other pulled up sharply, causing further
    astonishment from the drivers of the following vehicles dimly seen through the rain and gathering twilight as she led her company across the other half of the road and to the pavement, to the accompaniment of highly seasoned language from the cab driver and others and the ribald laughter of the boys. But as if this incident had not happened, she continued where she had left off, saying, "So we must always enquire into the work, station, and habits of those who wish to make our
    acquaintance."
    He wanted to laugh aloud, he wanted to roar: here he was, walking
    between these two oddities and their four dogs and being questioned as to his character as if he
    were in a courtroom, and all the while there was racing through him a feeling of anticipation and