Read Online SV - 05 - Sergeant Verity and the Swell Mob. by Francis Selwyn - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Francis Selwyn
Tags: Crime, Historical Novel
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fruit or flowers, others with feathers and
beads. But not one of the pretty faces beneath seemed intent upon anything
other than the antics in the ring.
Presently
the first canter was over and the pony riders had withdrawn. Pauline Newsome
herself came out on Rameses, the Dancing Horse, a dappled stallion which pawed
the ground in time to the music of the band. Suddenly, Verity felt Miss Jolly's
hand tighten on his arm and heard the shrill whisper.
'Look at her! What's she doing?'
He
turned to find Elaine, but she was apart from the crowd, standing aggressively
over a smaller girl with whom she was arguing.
'No-o-o!' Jolly's voice rose in protest. There!'
He
followed the direction of her arm and saw the other young woman. She was
seventeen or eighteen years old, dressed like a servant. Her brown hair was
combed loose to her shoulders, falling aslant her forehead. Verity watched the
narrowed quizzical eyes, the pert features, and the thrusting movements of her
robust young figure. The girl was forcing her way through the crowd, as if to
regain the entrance. From time to time the press of spectators obliged her to
push herself tightly against a man or woman in order to make her way.
'Well, I never!' said Verity
contentedly. He made no movement. The girl pushed her way through, coming
closer to them. From time to time she seemed conscious of having thrust herself
too roughly against a man who stood in her path. On these occasions she would
pause and smile an apology. Verity noticed that she was generally forgiven by
an answering smile, dismissive or hopeful as the case might be.
A
moment later she stepped clear of the throng, reaching the more open ground
just within the entrance of the marquee. Verity let her come on, and then he
barred her path.
'Why!'
he said amiably. 'If it ain't young Vicki Hartle! And what's a frisky young
piece like Vicki doing so far from home? You was to pick rope at Mr Dredge's
factory down Ratcliffe Highway for five years. Condition o' your release from
Brixton Reformatory. . .'
Like
Elaine, Vicki was a robust young woman but Verity caught her easily as she
tried to evade him. The metal cuffs clicked shut.
'What was it,
then?' he inquired conversationally. 'Them corns that the hemp do bring out on
the fingers? Being physicked with sulphur by old Ma Dredge? Or just plain friskiness?'
'You've no cause. . .' The voice was high and urgent.
Verity patted the side of the
plain brown dress and heard a dull metallic clatter.
' 'ere!' he said admiringly.
'I’d say you prigged every watch in this bloomin' tent, not to mention
notecases! What with that, and having to go back to the beginning of your first
little penance, you'll be making them other prison ladies happy for ten years
or more.'
The horror of it was reflected
in her eyes. She twisted against the cuffs.
'I’ll be old!' she
wailed imploringly. It'll be the end of me!'
'Old or not don't signify,'
said Verity sternly. 'An honest heart and a clear conscience. That's what you
need. Any case, you'll only be coming out to go back to Mr Dredge. What's it
matter down there if you're old or not? Mr Dredge ain't fussy.'
'You're cruel!'
she sobbed. ‘Hard and cruel!'
'And you're a thief,' he said
philosophically. 'A thief and a whore, Vicki Hartle. There's proper places for
such as you.'
'Two
whole guineas,' said Verity firmly’s quite enough for a young person of your
class.'
Even
in the darkness he was conscious of Jolly's features turned sharply upon him
and the glittering resentment in her eyes.
'They
wanted to give me more!' she shrilled. 'They'd have taken up a subscription but
for you. Two guineas was nothing to what I saved them!'
Verity scowled
down the length of the gas-lit street.
'You're
not here to make your fortune, miss! You got repentance and amendment to show.
That's what.'
Ever
since the afternoon, when the grateful owners of the watches and notecases had
dropped their coins into Jolly's hand, she had complained
beads. But not one of the pretty faces beneath seemed intent upon anything
other than the antics in the ring.
Presently
the first canter was over and the pony riders had withdrawn. Pauline Newsome
herself came out on Rameses, the Dancing Horse, a dappled stallion which pawed
the ground in time to the music of the band. Suddenly, Verity felt Miss Jolly's
hand tighten on his arm and heard the shrill whisper.
'Look at her! What's she doing?'
He
turned to find Elaine, but she was apart from the crowd, standing aggressively
over a smaller girl with whom she was arguing.
'No-o-o!' Jolly's voice rose in protest. There!'
He
followed the direction of her arm and saw the other young woman. She was
seventeen or eighteen years old, dressed like a servant. Her brown hair was
combed loose to her shoulders, falling aslant her forehead. Verity watched the
narrowed quizzical eyes, the pert features, and the thrusting movements of her
robust young figure. The girl was forcing her way through the crowd, as if to
regain the entrance. From time to time the press of spectators obliged her to
push herself tightly against a man or woman in order to make her way.
'Well, I never!' said Verity
contentedly. He made no movement. The girl pushed her way through, coming
closer to them. From time to time she seemed conscious of having thrust herself
too roughly against a man who stood in her path. On these occasions she would
pause and smile an apology. Verity noticed that she was generally forgiven by
an answering smile, dismissive or hopeful as the case might be.
A
moment later she stepped clear of the throng, reaching the more open ground
just within the entrance of the marquee. Verity let her come on, and then he
barred her path.
'Why!'
he said amiably. 'If it ain't young Vicki Hartle! And what's a frisky young
piece like Vicki doing so far from home? You was to pick rope at Mr Dredge's
factory down Ratcliffe Highway for five years. Condition o' your release from
Brixton Reformatory. . .'
Like
Elaine, Vicki was a robust young woman but Verity caught her easily as she
tried to evade him. The metal cuffs clicked shut.
'What was it,
then?' he inquired conversationally. 'Them corns that the hemp do bring out on
the fingers? Being physicked with sulphur by old Ma Dredge? Or just plain friskiness?'
'You've no cause. . .' The voice was high and urgent.
Verity patted the side of the
plain brown dress and heard a dull metallic clatter.
' 'ere!' he said admiringly.
'I’d say you prigged every watch in this bloomin' tent, not to mention
notecases! What with that, and having to go back to the beginning of your first
little penance, you'll be making them other prison ladies happy for ten years
or more.'
The horror of it was reflected
in her eyes. She twisted against the cuffs.
'I’ll be old!' she
wailed imploringly. It'll be the end of me!'
'Old or not don't signify,'
said Verity sternly. 'An honest heart and a clear conscience. That's what you
need. Any case, you'll only be coming out to go back to Mr Dredge. What's it
matter down there if you're old or not? Mr Dredge ain't fussy.'
'You're cruel!'
she sobbed. ‘Hard and cruel!'
'And you're a thief,' he said
philosophically. 'A thief and a whore, Vicki Hartle. There's proper places for
such as you.'
'Two
whole guineas,' said Verity firmly’s quite enough for a young person of your
class.'
Even
in the darkness he was conscious of Jolly's features turned sharply upon him
and the glittering resentment in her eyes.
'They
wanted to give me more!' she shrilled. 'They'd have taken up a subscription but
for you. Two guineas was nothing to what I saved them!'
Verity scowled
down the length of the gas-lit street.
'You're
not here to make your fortune, miss! You got repentance and amendment to show.
That's what.'
Ever
since the afternoon, when the grateful owners of the watches and notecases had
dropped their coins into Jolly's hand, she had complained
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