She walked deliberately down the passage, pausing at each step.

Before she was at the end of it, a loud voice reached her ear.

She joyfully turned back and re-entered the bedroom.
'Yes, David ?' she said quietly.
'If the girl is really bad, send her in the cart, or let her have a horse, if you like,' growled Mr Prothero.

'Only I do wish, mother, you would have nothing to do with them Irishers.' 'Thank you, my dear,' said the quiet little woman.

'Then if the rest go away, I may manage about the girl ?' 'Do what you like, only get rid of 'em somehow.' 'Thank you.' 'Oh, you needn't thank me! I'd as soon send every one of 'em to jail as not; but I can't stand your puffing and sighing just as if they were all your own flesh and blood.' 'We're all the same flesh and blood, my dear.' 'I'd be uncommon sorry to think so.