"What are you going to do?

"GOING TO GET UP?

"Don't make yourself ridiculous, Mr. Caudle; I can't say a word to
you like any other wife, but you must threaten to get up. DO be
ashamed of yourself.

"Puddings, indeed! Do you think I'm made of puddings? Didn't you
have some boiled rice three weeks ago? Besides, is this the time of
the year for puddings? It's all very well if I had money enough
allowed me like any other wife to keep the house with: then, indeed,
I might have preserves like any other woman; now, it's impossible;
and it's cruel--yes, Mr. Caudle, cruel--of you to expect it.

"APPLES AREN'T SO DEAR, ARE THEY?

"I know what apples are, Mr. Caudle, without your telling me. But I
suppose you want something more than apples for dumplings? I suppose
sugar costs something, doesn't it? And that's how it is. That's how
one expense brings on another, and that's how people go to ruin.

"PANCAKES?

"What's the use of your lying muttering there about pancakes? Don't
you always have 'em once a year--every Shrove Tuesday? And what
would any moderate, decent man want more?

"Pancakes, indeed! Pray, Mr. Caudle,--no, it's no use your saying
fine words to me to let you go to sleep; I sha'n't!--pray do you know