“Nothing, do ye call ut!” said Mrs. Chump. “And, mayhap, good cause too. Didn't ye tease 'm, now, on board the yacht? Now, did he go on board the yacht at all?”
“I should think you ought to know that as well as Adela,” said Mr. Pole.
Adela interposed, hurriedly: “All this, my dear Papa, is because Mr. Pericles has thought proper to visit the Tinleys' pew. Who would complain how or where he does it, so long as the duty is fulfilled?”
Mr. Pole stared, muttering: “The Tinleys!”
“She's botherin' of ye, Pole, the puss!” said Mrs. Chump, certain that she had hit a weak point in that mention of the yacht. “Ask her what sorrt of behaviour—”
“And he didn't speak to any of you?” said Mr. Pole.
“No, Papa.”
“He looked the other way?”
“He did us that honour.”
“Ask her, Pole, how she behaved to 'm on board the yacht,” cried Mrs. Chump. “Oh! there was flirtin', flirtin'! And go and see what the noble poet says of tying up in sacks and plumpin' of poor bodies of women into forty fathoms by them Turks and Greeks, all because of jeal'sy. So, they make a woman in earnest there, the wretches, 'cause she cann't have onny of her jokes. Didn't ye tease Mr. Paricles on board the yacht, Ad'la? Now, was he there?”