"Please yourself, my dear; you know best." "I should think I did know best where my own health is concerned." Even Bunting was incensed by this lack of gratitude.

"'Twas I said, long ago, you ought to go and see the doctor; 'twas you said you wouldn't!" he exclaimed pugnaciously.
"Well, I've never said you was never right, have I?
At any rate, I'm going." "Have you a pain anywhere ?" He stared at her with a look of real solicitude on his fat, phlegmatic face.
Somehow Ellen didn't look right, standing there opposite him.

Her shoulders seemed to have shrunk; even her cheeks had fallen in a little.

She had never looked so bad--not even when they had been half starving, and dreadfully, dreadfully worked.
"Yes," she said briefly, "I've a pain in my head, at the back of my neck.

It doesn't often leave me; it gets worse when anything upsets me, like I was upset last night by Joe Chandler." "He was a silly ass to come and do a thing like that!" said Bunting crossly.