That Tom Troubridge was an excellent young fellow, and that he considered it was her duty to turn her attention immediately to gaining his affections.
Mary said, with tearful indignation, that it was notorious that he was making love to Miss Burrit of Paiskow.

And that if he wasn't, she'd never, never, think of him, for that he was a great, lumbering, stupid, stupid fool.

There now.
Then the Vicar got into an unholy frame of mind, and maddened by Mary's tears, and the sight of his sister wiping her frightened face with her handkerchief, said, with something like an asseveration, that she was always at it.

That she was moping about, and colloquing with that infamous young scoundrel, Hawker.

That he would not have it.