'I don't care whether there's one or a dozen,' said Mr Flintwinch,

forcibly suggesting in his tone that the higher number was nearer the

mark. 'If there was fifty, they should all say, None of your nonsense

with me, I won't take it from you--I'd make 'em say it, whether they

liked it or not.' 'What have I done, you wrathful man?' her strong voice asked. 'Done?' said Mr Flintwinch. 'Dropped down upon me.' 'If you mean, remonstrated with you--'

'Don't put words into my mouth that I don't mean,' said Jeremiah,

sticking to his figurative expression with tenacious and impenetrable

obstinacy: 'I mean dropped down upon me.'

'I remonstrated with you,' she began again, 'because--' 'I won't have it!' cried Jeremiah. 'You dropped down upon me.' 'I dropped down upon you, then, you ill-conditioned man,' (Jeremiah

chuckled at having forced her to adopt his phrase,) 'for having been

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needlessly significant to Arthur that morning. I have a right to

complain of it as almost a breach of confidence. You did not mean it--'

'I won't have it!' interposed the contradictory Jeremiah, flinging back

the concession. 'I did mean it.'

'I suppose I must leave you to speak in soliloquy if you choose,' she

replied, after a pause that seemed an angry one. 'It is useless my

addressing myself to a rash and headstrong old man who has a set purpose

not to hear me.' 'Now, I won't take that from you either,' said Jeremiah. 'I have no such

purpose. I have told you I did mean it. Do you wish to know why I meant

it, you rash and headstrong old woman?'

'After all, you only restore me my own words,' she said, struggling with

her indignation. 'Yes.' 'This is why, then. Because you hadn't cleared his father to him, and

you ought to have done it. Because, before you went into any tantrum

about yourself, who are--' 'Hold there, Flintwinch!' she cried out in a changed voice: 'you may go

a word too far.' The old man seemed to think so. There was another pause, and he had

altered his position in the room, when he spoke again more mildly:

'I was going to tell you why it was. Because, before you took your own

part, I thought you ought to have taken the part of Arthur's father.

Arthur's father! I had no particular love for Arthur's father. I served

Arthur's father's uncle, in this house, when Arthur's father was not

much above me--was poorer as far as his pocket went--and when his uncle

might as soon have left me his heir as have left him. He starved in the

parlour, and I starved in the kitchen; that was the principal difference

in our positions; there was not much more than a flight of breakneck

stairs between us.