I only wish I dared burn down the house
And spoil your sniggering! Oh, what, you 're the man?
You 're satisfied at last? You 've found out Sludge?
We 'll see that presently: my turn, sir, next!
I too can tell my story: brute,—do you hear?—
You throttled your sainted mother, that old hag,
In just such a fit of passion: no, it was ...
To get this house of hers, and many a note
Like these ... I 'll pocket them, however ... five,
Ten, fifteen ... ay, you gave her throat the twist,