"There, Mr. Caudle, I hope you're in a little better temper than you
were this morning? There--you needn't begin to whistle: people
don't come to bed to whistle. But it's like you. I can't speak,
that you don't try to insult me. Once, I used to say you were the
best creature living; now you get quite a fiend.

"DO LET YOU REST?

"No: I won't let you rest. It's the only time I have to talk to
you, and you SHALL hear me. I'm put upon all day long: it's very
hard if I can't speak a word at night: besides, it isn't often I
open my mouth, goodness knows.

"Because ONCE in your lifetime your shirt wanted a button you must
almost swear the roof off the house!

"YOU DIDN'T SWEAR?

"Ha, Mr. Caudle! you don't know what you do when you're in a passion.

"YOU WERE NOT IN A PASSION?

"Weren't you? Well, then, I don't know what a passion is--and I
think I ought by this time. I've lived long enough with you, Mr.
Caudle, to know that.

"It's a pity you haven't something worse to complain of than a button