She doesn't understand; she believes he has taken a sudden dislike to her. “I don’t think you see,” she replied, with tears on her cheeks, and her brows knitting, “how it shames and, ah!—disgraces me—AH TISHU!” She put down the tray with a concussion on her toilet-table. "And so you'll turn highwayman, will you, you young dog?" continued the carpenter, cuffing him soundly,—"rob the mails, like Jack Hall, I suppose. “I speak from my heart, and you answer from your brain. Your second turn is not over, is it?” She laughed a little hardly.
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