In
virtue thereof, it had become her habit to assume a woful look,
which woful look she now bestowed upon her patron.
'What's the matter now, ma'am?' said Mr. Bounderby, in a very
short, rough way.
'Pray, sir,' returned Mrs. Sparsit, 'do not bite my nose off.'
'Bite your nose off, ma'am?' repeated Mr. Bounderby. 'Your nose!'
meaning, as Mrs. Sparsit conceived, that it was too developed a
nose for the purpose. After which offensive implication, he cut
himself a crust of bread, and threw the knife down with a noise.
Mrs. Sparsit took her foot out of her stirrup, and said, 'Mr.
Bounderby, sir!'
'Well, ma'am?' retorted Mr. Bounderby. 'What are you staring at?'
'May I ask, sir,' said Mrs. Sparsit, 'have you been ruffled this
morning?'
'Yes, ma'am.'
'May I inquire, sir,' pursued the injured woman, 'whether I am the
unfortunate cause of your having lost your temper?'
'Now, I'll tell you what, ma'am,' said Bounderby, 'I am not come
here to be bullied. A female may be highly connected, but she
can't be permitted to bother and badger a man in my position, and I
am not going to put up with it.
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