It was indeed clear that her sway over him was boundless, and such was the fact.

On this occasion she simply looked at him significantly, held up her hand in a menacing attitude, and having made a mock curtesy, immediately left the room.
"Lanty," said he in an undertone, when she had gone, "Lanty, you clip, go and tell her to forgive me; I said too much, and I'm sorry for it, say--go you scoundrel." "Faix I'll do no such thing, sir," replied Lanty, alarmed at the nature of the message; "I know better than to come across her now; she'd whale the life out o' me.

Sure she's afther flailing the cook out o' the kitchen--and Tom Corbet the butler has one of his ears, he says, hangin' off him as long as a blood-hound's." "Speak easy," said Doaker, in a voice of terror, "speak lower, or she may hear you--Isn't it strange," he said to himself, "that I who never feared God or man, should quail before this Jezabel!" "Begad, an' here's one, your honor, that'll make her quail, if he meets her." "Who is it," asked the other eagerly, "who is it you imp ?" "Why, Mr.M'Clutchy, sir; he's ridin' up the avenue." "Ay, Val the Vulture--Val the Vulture--I like that fellow--like him for his confoundedly clever roguery; only he's a hypocrite, and doesn't set the world at defiance as I do;--no, he's a cowardly, skulking hypocrite, nearly as great a one as M'Slime, but doesn't talk so much about religion as that oily gentleman." In a few moments M'Clutchy entered.

"Good morrow, Val.

Well, Val--well, my Vulture, what's in the wind now?
Who's to suffer?
Are you ready for a pounce?
Eh ?" "I was sorry to hear that your health's not so good, sir, as it was." "You lie, my dear Vulture, you lie in your throat, I tell you.