"Eh! ye've got it on! It looks gradely."

"It looks gradely, does it?" returned John grimly. "I've a word or two
to say to you about this, Sally? Where did you get this? Is this the
handkerchief that was stolen from Mr. Lambert of Saltfield?"

Sally looked back at him quite unabashed, and began to laugh.

"Think o' your guessin'!" she cried. "Well, doesn't it suit ye a dale
better nor yon ugly owd chap?"

John turned quite pale; then, with an oath and a sudden fierce
gesture, tore the handkerchief from his neck and threw it on the
ground.

"How dare you?" he cried, turning on Sally with flashing eyes. "How
dare you look me in the face after treating me like this? Insultin'
me--makin' a laughin' stock of me--"

He stopped, stammering with rage. The angry colour had now returned to
his face; it was Sally who was pale. She stared at him aghast, and
presently began to sob like a frightened child.

"I'm sure I dunno whatever I've done to mak' ye so mad," she cried
brokenly. "I did but look to please ye."

"Please me!" cried John, stamping his foot. "How could it please me
for you to give me a thing that no respectable man ought to touch--a
thing as was stolen? I was a fool to think it could have been honestly
come by; but when you gave it me, looking so innocent, I never guessed