“It is where you are to sleep.”
“Is it sleep?”
“Yes, sleep.”
“Is there a bed there?”
“Of course there is.”
“Oh my! Well, I suppose I dished her; I shook her pretty rough.”
“You must not do that sort of thing again, Peggy, it won’t do.”
“Mustn’t I? But she mustn’t take me off, I tell ye, Miss—what’s yer name?”
“Archdale.”
“I can’t go round that word at all, and it’s plain that I can’t.”