‘How shocking! But, good gracious, there she is again.’
Sir Watkin looked in the direction pointed out, and, sure enough, there was his old enemy. Conducted off the ground by one gate, she had reappeared by another, and was bearing down, amidst the jeers of the oi polloi, straight upon himself.
‘Confound her impudence!’ he exclaimed. ‘I wish I had given her in charge.’
‘Sir Watkin, I say! Sir Watkin, hear me! I’ve something very particular to say.’
‘Yes, but you can’t say it now, my good woman. Don’t you see I am engaged?’
Again a crowd assembled in full expectation of some fun—an extra entertainment not included in the day’s programme.
Again, fortunately, the policeman appeared.
‘Now, my good woman,’ said he, ‘he hoff. Don’t you see you are creatin’ a disturbance?’
‘I am a-doin’ w’at?’ asked the party addressed.
‘You are a-creatin’ a disturbance and hinterferin’ with the gentry. It is agen the law. You’d best take yourself off.’