Cis Jewell had one of his too, a poor little rat of a thing that died, and now the minx is flaunting about the High-street every night, in her silks and her feathers as bold as brass.

I hope you'll have nothing to say to her; you and I will keep house together.

They are looking after me to put me in the madhouse.

You'll come too, of course." "God have mercy on you, poor Nelly!" said Mary.
"Exactly so, my dear," the poor lunatic replied.

"Of course He will.
But about him you know.