A vicious little devil flashed out of the old woman's eyes, and her
respectable looks changed on the instant. "Tol yer chib, or I'll heat
the bones of you with the fires of Bongo Tem," she screamed furiously,
and in a mixture of her mother-tongue and English. "Ja pukenus, slut of
the gutter," she shook her fist, and Chaldea, with an insulting laugh,
moved away. "Bengis your see! Bengis your see! And that, my generous
lady," she added, turning round with a sudden resumption of her fawning
respectability, "means 'the devil in your heart,' which I spoke
witchly-like to the child. Ah, but she's a bad one."

Miss Greeby laughed outright. "This is more like the real thing."

"Poor Chaldea," said Lambert. "You're too hard on her, mother."

"And you, my sweet gentleman, ain't hard enough. She'll sell you, and
get Kara to put the knife between your ribs."

"Why should he? I'm not in love with the girl."

"The tree don't care for the ivy, but the ivy loves the tree," said
Mother Cockleshell darkly. "You're a good and kind gentleman, and I
don't want to see that slut pick your bones."

"So I think," whispered Miss Greeby in his ear. "You play with fire."

"Aye, my good lady," said Mother Cockleshell, catching the whisper--she
had the hearing of a cat. "With the fire of Bongo Tern, the which you
may call The Crooked Land," and she pointed significantly downward.

"Hell, do you mean?" asked Miss Greeby in her bluff way.