Lemuel walked fast, to get out of their way; he did not know
why, but he did not want to speak to the girl. They walked fast too,
and when he got down the stairs on to the ground floor of the court-
house they overtook him.
"Say?" said the older girl, "I want to speak to _you_. I think
it's a down shame, the way that you've been treated; and Statira,
she feels jus' 's I do about it; and I tell her she's got to say so.
It's the least she can do, I tell her, after what she got you
_in_ for. My name's 'Manda Grier; I room 'th S'tira; 'n' I
come 'th her this mornin' t' help keep her up; b't I _didn't_
know 't was goin' to be s'ch a _perfect_ flat-out!"
As the young woman rattled on she grew more and more glib; she was
what they call whopper-jawed, and spoke a language almost purely
consonantal, cutting and clipping her words with a rapid play of her
whopper-jaw till there was nothing but the bare bones left of them.
Statira was crying, and Lemuel could not bear to see her cry. He
tried to say something to comfort her, but all he could think of
was, "I hope you'll get your book back," and 'Manda Grier answered
for her----
"Oh, I guess 't ain't the book 't she cares for. S' far forth 's the
book goes, I guess she can afford to buy another book, well enough.
B't I tell her she's done 'n awful thing, and a thing 't she'll
carry to her grave 'th her, 'n't she'll remember to her dyin' day.
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