She closed the door violently, and stood in an attitude of robust
defiance.
'What's all this about?' asked the enraged author, overcoming an
impulse to take Mrs Goby by the shoulders and throw her out--
though he might have found some difficulty in achieving this
feat. 'Who are you? And why do you come here with your brawling?'
'I'm the respectable wife of a respectable man--that's who I am,
Mr Yule, if you want to know. And I always thought Mrs Yule was
the same, from the dealings we've had with her at the shop,
though not knowing any more of her, it's true, except that she
lived in St Paul's Crezzent. And so she may be respectable,
though I can't say as her husband behaves himself very much like
what he pretends to be. But I can't say as much for her relations
in Perker Street, 'Olloway, which I s'pose they're your relations
as well, at least by marriage. And if they think they're going to
insult me, and use their blackguard tongues--'
'What are you talking about?' shouted Yule, who was driven to
frenzy by the mention of his wife's humble family.
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