Clem, rushing upon her and dashing the letter in her face.
“Why, you mad cat!” cried her mother, starting up in anger. “What’s wrong with you now?”
“Read that there letter! That’s your doin’, that is! Read it! Read it!”
Half-frightened, Mrs. Peckover drew away from the table and managed to peruse Joseph’s writing. Having come to the end, she burst into jeering laughter.
“He’s done it, has he? He’s took his ’ook, has he? What did I tell you? Don’t swear at me, or I’ll give you something to swear about—such languidge in a respectable ’ouse! Ha, ha! What did I tell you? You wouldn’t take my way. Oh no, you must go off and be independent. Serve you right! Ha, ha! Serve you right! You’ll get no pity from me.”
“You ’old your jaw, mother, or I’ll precious soon set my marks on your ugly old face! What does he say there about you? You’re to pay me money. He’s made arrangements with you. Don’t try to cheat me, or I’ll—soon have a summons out against you. The
