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MRS. CAUDLE'S CURTAIN LECTURES.
7
shan't sit up for you. No: nor you shan't have a latchkey. I'm not going to sleep with the door upon the latch, to be murdered before the morning.
PRETTYMAN TAKING THE KEYS FROM HIS WIFE'S POCKET.
"Faugh! Pah! Whewgh! That filthy tobacco-smoke! It's enough to kill any decent woman. You know I hate tobacco, and yet you will do it. You don't smoke yourself? What of that? If you go among people who do smoke, you're just as bad, or worse. You might as well smoke—indeed, better. Better smoke yourself
