"You cannot understand me, Madam; and it is well you cannot. Forgetting her occupation in her anger, she left off bathing Darrell's wrist; and, squeezing his arm so tightly that the boy winced with pain, she clapped her right hand upon her hip, and turned, with flashing eyes and an inflamed countenance, towards her crest-fallen spouse. "You!" cried Jack, scornfully. I next proceeded to Jenny Bunch's, the Ship, in Trig Lane—there I got the same answer. “She thinks that Missy is trying to turn me into a punk or a Goth.
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