What can he be but a clever one to do that!' His shuffling footstep coming towards them caused her to retreat to the other end of the room.

Though a tall, hard-favoured, sinewy old woman, who in her youth might have enlisted in the Foot Guards without much fear of discovery, she collapsed before the little keen-eyed crab-like old man.
'Now, Affery,' said he, 'now, woman, what are you doing?
Can't you find Master Arthur something or another to pick at ?' Master Arthur repeated his recent refusal to pick at anything.
'Very well, then,' said the old man; 'make his bed.

Stir yourself.' His neck was so twisted that the knotted ends of his white cravat usually dangled under one ear; his natural acerbity and energy, always contending with a second nature of habitual repression, gave his features a swollen and suffused look; and altogether, he had a weird appearance of having hanged himself at one time or other, and of having gone about ever since, halter and all, exactly as some timely hand had cut him down.
'You'll have bitter words together to-morrow, Arthur; you and your mother,' said Jeremiah.

'Your having given up the business on your father's death--which she suspects, though we have left it to you to tell her--won't go off smoothly.' 'I have given up everything in life for the business, and the time came for me to give up that.' 'Good!' cried Jeremiah, evidently meaning Bad.

'Very good! only don't expect me to stand between your mother and you, Arthur.