"Oh, weren't you?"
"Well, do you think so?"
"How should I know? I was only eavesdropping, of course, I have no right to think anything about it."
"Madge, don't be silly."
"Well?"
"Do you really, honestly think that I am guilty of having spoken slightingly of your mother? Just answer me that, yes or no."
"As I say, I have no right to any opinion on the subject. I only heard something not intended—"
"Oh, the—" The remainder of this exclamation was fortunately lost in the collar of Harry's greatcoat. "You had better give me back that song—I presume you won't want to sing it now."
"Why not? Art is above all personal feelings." It was mere wilfulness that led her to utter this cynical remark. What she really wanted to say was "Of course I want to sing it, and I know you meant Mrs. Peachum," but somehow the other answer was given before she knew it.
"Madge, you may not know it, but you are positively insulting."