"You are laborin under another mistake," sez she, as frosty as ever. "My brother is not in the house."
"Perhaps you'll tell me by-am-by that I mustn't believe my own eyes," sez I a getting wrothy. "Jest ask that mean shote to come out of the other room there—I saw him sneak off with my own eyes not three minutes ago."
She turned a trifle red when I talked up to her so, and arter chokin a second, sez she, as cool as a cowcumber, sez she,
"Not my brother, you did not see my brother, he is my husband, sir."
I felt the blood bile in my veins and my face seemed afire. "Your husband marm?" sez I, a getting up a laugh that eended off in a savage grin, "and so you're, you're,"—
"His wife sir," sez she, with a cold tarntalisin smile, "and now, as I am particularly engaged, perhaps you will leave the house."
"Not jest yet," sez Captin Doolittle, a bolting intu the room. "We've got some business with that husband of your'n, marm."
"And who are you sir?" sez the woman a turnin white as curd and sittin down half scared tu death.
"I don't know as that is any consarn of your'n," sez he, a hauling a piece of paper folded up square from his pocket. "I want that swindlin scamp that you call husband, and its my opinion that he and I get better acquainted afore I leave these ere premises."