I came to the Beck’s house. "The Chevalier shall hear of this," whispered the woollen-draper. Wood, I command you not to stir," vociferated the carpenter's better-half; "recollect you'll be answerable to me. ’ Lucy giggled. ” He threw open the door of the sitting-room and switched on the electric light. “I feel shabby and disgraced. ‘So I shall do so. You'll never be guided by me—never!" "Indeed, my love, you're entirely mistaken," returned the carpenter, endeavouring to deprecate his wife's rising resentment by the softest looks, and the meekest deportment. CHAPTER XX.
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