"Yes, yes," she breathed. Her bosom heaved. "Always."
Then his very first impression of her as "a sort of white Topsy"
recurred to him suddenly and flashed into speech.
"Mary Ann, I don't believe you know how you came into the world. I
dare say you 'specs you growed.'"
"No, sir," said Mary Ann gravely; "God made me."
That shook him strangely for a moment. But the canary sang on:
"Sw-eêt. Sw-w-w-w-w-eêt."