'Don't he interrupt and contradict me on every occasion?
Does he ever fail to interpose himself between me and anything or anybody that he sees I have set my mind upon?
Does he make a point of always pretending to forget me, when he's pouring out the beer?
Does he make bragging remarks about his razors, and insulting allusions to people who have no necessity to shave more than once a week?
But let him look out! He'll find himself shaved, pretty close, before long, and so I tell him.' The young gentleman was mistaken in this closing sentence, inasmuch as he never told it to Jinkins, but always to Mrs Todgers.
'However,' he said, 'these are not proper subjects for ladies' ears.
All I've got to say to you, Mrs Todgers, is, a week's notice from next Saturday.

The same house can't contain that miscreant and me any longer.
If we get over the intermediate time without bloodshed, you may think yourself pretty fortunate.

I don't myself expect we shall.' 'Dear, dear!' cried Mrs Todgers, 'what would I have given to have prevented this?
To lose you, sir, would be like losing the house's right-hand.

So popular as you are among the gentlemen; so generally looked up to; and so much liked! I do hope you'll think better of it; if on nobody else's account, on mine.' 'There's Jinkins,' said the youngest gentleman, moodily.

'Your favourite.