The old woman, to the unspeakable dismay of the Grinder, walked her twisted figure round and round, in a ring of some four feet in diameter, constantly repeating these words, and shaking her fist above her head, and working her mouth about.
“Misses Brown,” pleaded Rob, coming a little out of his corner, “I’m sure you wouldn’t injure a cove, on second thoughts, and in cold blood, would you?”
“Don’t talk to me,” said Mrs Brown, still wrathfully pursuing her circle. “Now let him go, now let him go!”
“Misses Brown,” urged the tormented Grinder, “I didn’t mean to—Oh, what a thing it is for a cove to get into such a line as this!—I was only careful of talking, Misses Brown, because I always am, on account of his being up to everything; but I might have known it wouldn’t have gone any further. I’m sure I’m quite agreeable,” with a wretched face, “for any little bit of gossip, Misses Brown. Don’t go on like this, if you please. Oh, couldn’t you have the goodness to put in a word for a miserable cove, here?” said the Grinder, appealing in desperation to the daughter.
“Come, mother, you hear what he says,” she interposed, in her stern voice, and with an impatient action of her head; “try him once more, and if you fall out with him again, ruin him, if you like, and have done with him.”
Mrs Brown, moved as it seemed by this very tender exhortation, presently began to howl; and softening by degrees, took the apologetic Grinder to her arms, who embraced her with a face of unutterable woe, and like a victim as he was, resumed his former seat, close by the side of his venerable friend, whom he suffered, not without much constrained sweetness of countenance, combating very expressive physiognomical revelations of an opposite character to draw his arm through hers, and keep it there.
“And how’s Master, deary dear?” said Mrs Brown, when, sitting in this amicable posture, they had pledged each other.
“Hush! If you’d be so good, Misses Brown, as to speak a little lower,” Rob implored. “Why, he’s pretty well, thank’ee, I suppose.”
“You’re not out of place, Robby?” said Mrs Brown, in a wheedling tone.
“Why, I’m not exactly out of place, nor in,” faltered Rob. “I—I’m still in pay, Misses Brown.”