"I am a-going with he," she said, in the midst of a torrent of sobs and tears. "It's a dooty. They says if you does your dooty all will come right in the end. It may be, but I don't see it no further than taking him back to Portsmouth."
"What on earth are you going to Portsmouth for now? And why? why now? He's not more drunk than he has been before, nor yet less abominable. Let the police lock him up for the night, and send him back to Portsmouth in the morning. Why should you want to go with him now?"
"Because you're going to take a missus," said Mrs Baggett, still sobbing.
"It's more than I know; or you know; or anyone knows," and Mr Whittlestaff spoke as though he had nearly reduced himself to his housekeeper's position.
"Not marry her!" she exclaimed.
"I cannot say. If you will let me alone to manage my own affairs, it will be best."
"That man has been here interfering. You don't mean to say that you're going to be put upon by such a savage as that, as has just come home from South Africa. Diamonds, indeed! I'd diamond him! I don't believe, not in a single diamond. They're all rubbish and paste. If you're going to give her up to that fellow, you're not the gentleman I take you for."
"But if I don't marry you won't have to go," he said, unable to refrain from so self-evident an argument.
"Me going! What's me going? What's me or that drunken old reprobate out there to the likes of you? I'd stay, only if it was to see that Mr John Gordon isn't let to put his foot here in this house; and then I'd go. John Gordon, indeed! To come up between you and her, when you had settled your mind and she had settled hern! If she favours John Gordon, I'll tear her best frock off her back."
"How dare you speak in that way of the lady who is to be your mistress?"