Tut, tut, you'll get others as bad, but don't complain so long as no bones are broken.

I'm inviting myself to dinner, you know; I've spotted a leg of mutton." But Mme Lerat had less philosophy.

Every time Nana showed her a fresh bruise on the white skin she screamed aloud.

They were killing her niece; things couldn't go on as they were doing.

As a matter of fact, Fontan had turned Mme Lerat out of doors and had declared that he would not have her at his house in the future, and ever since that day, when he returned home and she happened to be there, she had to make off through the kitchen, which was a horrible humiliation to her.
Accordingly she never ceased inveighing against that brutal individual.
She especially blamed his ill breeding, pursing up her lips, as she did so, like a highly respectable lady whom nobody could possibly remonstrate with on the subject of good manners.
"Oh, you notice it at once," she used to tell Nana; "he hasn't the barest notion of the very smallest proprieties.