I'm not the woman to quarrel with my own kin; _you_ may, for I've known you to do it." "Why, what did you call it yesterday, then, leaving your sister's house in a tantrum ?" "I'd no quarrel wi' my sister, Mr.Glegg, and it's false to say it.
Mr.Tulliver's none o' my blood, and it was him quarrelled with me, and drove me out o' the house.

But perhaps you'd have had me stay and be swore at, Mr.Glegg; perhaps you was vexed not to hear more abuse and foul language poured out upo' your own wife.

But, let me tell you, it's _your_ disgrace." "Did ever anybody hear the like i' this parish ?" said Mr.Glegg, getting hot.

"A woman, with everything provided for her, and allowed to keep her own money the same as if it was settled on her, and with a gig new stuffed and lined at no end o' expense, and provided for when I die beyond anything she could expect--to go on i' this way, biting and snapping like a mad dog! It's beyond everything, as God A 'mighty should ha' made women _so_." (These last words were uttered in a tone of sorrowful agitation.

Mr.Glegg pushed his tea from him, and tapped the table with both his hands.) "Well, Mr.Glegg, if those are your feelings, it's best they should be known," said Mrs.Glegg, taking off her napkin, and folding it in an excited manner.