“Vell, Jim, vot's the matter!” demanded he—“How's your missus?”
“She ain't no missus o' mine no longer,” replied Jim.
“How?”
“I tell you vot it is, sir, she promised to give me a shillin'-aweek an' my feed; an' she ain't done vun thing nor t' other; for I'm bless'd if I ain't starved, and ain't seen the color of her money sin' I bin there. Father's goin' to summon her.”
“It's some mistake, sure?”
“It's no mistake tho',” persisted Jim, “an' I can tell you she ain't got a farden to bless herself vith!—an' she's over head-and-ears in debt too, I can tell you; an' she pays nobody—puttin' 'em all off, vith promises to pay wen she's married.”
“My heye!” exclaimed the excited Wiggins, thrown all a-back by this very agreeable intention upon his funds.
“More nor that, sir,” continued the revengeful Jim, “I know she thinks as she's hooked a preshus flat, an' means to marry you outright jist for vot she can get. An' von't she scatter the dibs?—that's all; she's the extravagantest 'ooman as hever I came anigh to.”
“But, (dear me! ) she has a good stock—?”
“Dummies, sir, all dummies.”