“Now don’t chaff me, I tell you—I’m in no mood to stand it.”
Rawton said no more. He looked hard at the speaker, and saw that he was still in a great state of flustration.
The gipsy remained silent and thoughtful for some time.
Presently Mrs. Peace entered the room; she started at perceiving Rawton. “Dear me! how are you?” she said, offering the gipsy her hand.
“I’m pretty well for an old un,” replied Bill. “We ’aven’t met for a good while. How’s yourself?”
“Middling—only middling; but I am glad to see you.”
“Thank you, marm, an’ the same to you.”
“Where is Susan?” said Mrs. Peace, addressing herself to her husband.
“Where I put her—in the next room. Hang her! she can’t, or rather won’t, keep her tongue still. I tell you what it is—she shan’t go out of the house at all. I’ll stop this little game! I’ll tame her, as sure as my name is——”
He was about to say Charles Peace, but he substituted “what it is,” instead.