"I do not know, sir. Let me get what you want."
"I want her!"
She was not at home, and Ida renewed her offer.
"Gone out, hey!" he rambled on, peevishly. "How she walks! as if the ground were not good enough for her feet! ogling and coquetting! and I am here!" with an oath. "Where is Josephine?"
"Down stairs, sir."
"What is she about?"
"Anna Talbot is with her."
"More folly and vanity! ringlets and ribbons, and bonnets and beaux! The world is peopled with knaves and fools—women are knaves—men fools. You are a mixture."
Ida suppressed a smile. "Your lips are dry," she said "here is water."
He drank it. "You are!" he went on, obstinately, "I hated you from the minute you entered this house, and you repaid me with compound interest. Here you are, sitting up at night; waiting on me all day. I can't do without you, because you are handy and wakeful, but I don't like you. Do you hear?"