Too much blood has been shed already. “It was your own fault,” she exclaimed. ’ Kimble’s eyes widened. "What!" she exclaimed, almost choked with passion,—"I advised you to burthen yourself with that idle and good-for-nothing pauper, who'm you ought rather to send to the workhouse than maintain at your own expense, did I! I advised you to take him as an apprentice; and, so far from getting the regular fee with him, to give him a salary? I advised you to feed him, and clothe him, and treat him like his betters; to put up with his insolence, and wink at his faults? I counselled all this, I suppose. "Well, how goes it?" he asked. " "Alas! that one so highly born should submit to such a degradation?" groaned the knight. Each of my scholars thinks it his own shirt. For what indeed does she do? A simple song, no gesture, no acting, nothing.
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