“I am quite aware of it, Griselda.”
“Then keep your tongue in bounds.”
“My tongue is my own.”
“My house is my own. And if you can’t be civil, I’ll be necessitated to ask you to leave it.”
“I’m going as soon as I have told you that you have the most gun-powdery temper I ever came across; forbye, you are fairly drunk with the conceit and vanity of Sophy’s grand marriage. You are full as the Baltic with the pride of it, woman!”
“Temper! It is you, that are in a temper.”
“That’s neither here nor there. I have my reasons.”
“Reasons, indeed! I’d like to see you reasonable for once.”
“Yes, I have my reasons. How was my lad Andrew used by the both of you? And what do you think of his last meeting with that heartless limmer and her fine sweetheart?”
“Andrew should have kept himself out of their way. As soon as Braelands came round Sophy, Andrew got the very de’il in him. I was aye feared there would be murder laid to his name.”