"Why, yes," Cuckoo answered. "So he did."
"Ah! What was it? What did he do?"
"Well, after he'd been talkin' a bit he caught hold of me and pulled me in front of the glass. See?"
"Yes, yes."
"And he made me look into it."
"What for?"
But at this point Cuckoo got restive.
"I—I can't remember," she murmured, almost sullenly, recalling
Valentine's bitter sarcasms on her appearance and way of life.
"Never mind, then. Leave that. But after; what came next?"
"While we was standin' like that he seemed to get frightened or somethin', like he saw somethin' in the glass. He was frightened, scared, and he hit out all on a sudden, just where my face was in the glass, and smashed it."