She stayed there where she was, "frozen into an image," as she afterwards described it.

She also said: "You could 'ave knocked me down with a feather." The dog did not look at her, but crocked under him the leg that had been stiff like a ramrod and spread out another.

The children did not speak.
"Well!" For a moment words failed her; then she began, her hands spread out as though she was addressing a Suffragette meeting in Trafalgar Square.

(She knew, happy woman, nothing of Suffragettes.) "Of all the things, and it's you, Master Jeremy, that 'as done it, as anyone might have guessed by the way you've been be'aving this last fortnight, and what's come over you is more nor I nor anyone else can tell, which I was saying only yesterday to your mother that it's more than one body and pair of hands is up to the managing of now you've got so wild and wicked; and wherever from did you get the dirty animal dropping water all over the nursery carpet and smelling awful, I'll be bound, which anyone can see that's got eyes, and you'd know what your father will do to you when he knows of it, and so he shall, as sure as my name is Lizzie Preston....

Go on out, you ugly, dirty animal-ough, you 'orrible creature you.