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257
Cranford
·
Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell
153
“Don’t
tell
me!”
Miss
Pole
exclaimed,
angry
that
we
could
be
for
a
moment
imposed
upon.
“I
believe
he
was
robbed,
just
as
Betty
told
me,
and
he
is
ashamed
to
own
it;
and,
to
be
sure,
it
was
very
silly
of
him
to
be
robbed
just
at
his
own
door;
I
daresay
he
feels
that
such
a
thing
won’t
raise
him
in
the
eyes
of
Cranford
society,
and
is
anxious
to
conceal
it—
but
he
need
not
have
tried
to
impose
upon
me,
by
saying
I
must
have
heard
an
exaggerated
account
of
some
petty
theft
of
a
neck
of
mutton,
which,
it
seems,
was
stolen
out
of
the
safe
in
his
yard
last
week;
he
had
the
impertinence
to
add,
he
believed
that
that
was
taken
by
the
cat.
I
have
no
doubt,
if
I
could
get
at
the
bottom
of
it,
it
was
that
Irishman
dressed
up
in
woman’s
clothes,
who
came
spying
about
my
house,
with
the
story
about
the
starving
children.”
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