"Every right, if I can only make you perform it."
"You are either impertinent or very brave, young lady. I was never spoken to in this strain before."
"Well, you see, it is a matter of life and death," said Effie. "I can't mince words when life and death hang in the balance."
"You're a queer girl—a queer girl; I don't know what to make of you. 'Pon my word, I'm sorry for that mother of yours—poor soul, poor soul! It's a pity she didn't bring up her son as conscientiously as she did her daughter. Now, you wouldn't have taken fifty pounds out of my till?"
"No," said Effie.
"I wish you were a boy—I'd give you that lad's place within an hour."
"Thank you, but I don't think I should care to have it. Will you come now and do your duty?"
"Come! Where am I to come?"
"To see George."
"The rascal! Where is he?"