“You are—gloriously.”
“The deuce you say!”
“The deuce I say.”
“Well, of all—but it only shows how expert I am.”
“You turned this one on, too; did you?”
“Did it a-purpose; just to show you I could, you know.”
“You are a better—fibber than I thought,” she announced.
From the stairway Walter’s high-pitched voice made itself heard above the ship noises.
“I’m done with you; d’y’ hear!” He was levelling a very bony finger at his mother. “No more! No more! I won’t let you get my goat no more. No, sir! No, sir! Talk all you want! Oh, I’ll look at you.”
She had been quietly asking him to look at her in the hope that with her eye upon him he would wilt as before.