Vas dat not de bettah, senor ?" "Possibly," yet secretly questioning her motives, "but--but really, you know, I always supposed you to be a friend of Farnham's!" The girl instantly flushed crimson to the roots of her black hair, bringing her hands together sharply, her eyes straying from Winston to the suddenly uplifted face of Miss Norvell.
"No, no," she said, at last, her voice softer.

"He vas not to me anyting! She know how it vas; maybe she tell you sometime.

Not now, but sometime.

I jus' vant do right.

I vant serve Senor Brown, not dat Farnham no more.