“Go on, brother.”
“The—the—”
“Go on, brother.”
“The—the lubbeny.”
“The what, brother?” said Ursula, starting from her seat.
“Why, the lubbeny; don’t you—”
“I tell you what, brother,” said Ursula, looking somewhat pale, and speaking very low, “if I had only something in my hand, I would do you a mischief.”
“Why, what is the matter, Ursula?” said I; “how have I offended you?”
“How have you offended me? Why, didn’t you insinivate just now that I was ready to play the—the—”
“Go on, Ursula.”