"But—"
"I live in a gaol—a prison. Yes, a hateful, hateful prison, watched by a one-legged gaoler, and guarded by a one-armed tyrant—yes, a tyrant!" Here, having stopped to stamp her foot, she walked on faster than ever.
"Can you possibly mean old Jerry and the Captain?"
Here my lady paused in her quick walk, and even condescended to look at Barnabas.
"Do you happen to know them too, sir?"
"Yes; and my name is—"
"Perhaps you met them also this morning, sir?"
"Yes; and my—"
"Indeed," said she, with curling lip; "this has been quite an eventful day for you."
"On the whole, I think it has; and may I remind you that my—"