Can't be such rank idiots.

You do it on purpose.

All done for gossip!' 'Oh, sir, no!' The landlady half curtsied.
'Oh, ma'am, yes!' The old gentleman bobbed his head.
'No, indeed, sir!' The landlady shook hers.
'Damn it, ma'am, I swear you do.' Symptoms of wrath here accompanied the declaration; and, with a sigh and a very bitter feeling, Mrs.Hawkshaw allowed him to have the last word.
Apparently this--which I must beg to call the lady's morsel--comforted his irascible system somewhat; for he remained in a state of composure eight minutes by the clock.

And mark how little things hang together.
Another word from the landlady, precipitating a retort from him, and a gesture or muttering from her; and from him a snapping outburst, and from her a sign that she held out still; in fact, had she chosen to battle for that last word, as in other cases she might have done, then would he have exploded, gone to bed in the dark, and insisted upon sleeping: the consequence of which would have been to change this history.

Now while Mrs.Hawkshaw was upstairs, Mrs.Mel called the servant, who took her to the kitchen, where she saw a prime loin of mutton; off which she cut two chops with a cunning hand: and these she toasted at a gradual distance, putting a plate beneath them, and a tin behind, and hanging the chops so that they would turn without having to be pierced.