“I’ll do your packing,” cried she, and with that she threw an old cloak over my shoulders, jammed my hat on my head, picked up my bundle, and told me to come along. I sat down on the step and said there was no hurry, which made her furiously angry.
“Why do you object to coming to my house?” said she.
“I don’t object, I know sooner or later I shall have to do it.”
“That’s a pretty way to talk,” said she. “I don’t believe you care anything about me!”
“You know very well how much I love you, darling! but you are dearer to me in my own house, than in an outsider’s!”
“Do you mean to say I am an outsider?”
“You are half one, you see!”
“Nothing of the sort! I am just myself, as you know perfectly well; his wife, of course, just as he is my husband, and I go his way as long as he goes mine, but you can set your mind at rest, he will be perfectly charmed to have you in the house, or else I will know the reason why!”
“I’ve had plenty of lodgers of that sort,” said I, “when our Lord of Nevers billeted them on us, but I had rather not be one my own self.”
“You will have to learn,” said she. “Come, I am waiting.”