I don't wonder.

A lark wouldn't be at home where a vulture roosted." "And so the lark flies away to the cuckoo," snarled the old man, with flecks of froth gathering at the corners of his mouth; for the sight of this handsome, long-limbed youth enraged him.
"Give her back to me.

You know where she is," he persisted.

"You've got her hid away.

That's why you've sent your mother East--so's she wouldn't know, though from what I see, I shouldn't think it'd have made much difference to her." Exclamations broke from the crowd.