The Princess Casamassima

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The child looked up from her dandling and patting, and after a stare of which the blankness was somewhat exaggerated, replied: Law no, Miss Pynsent, I never see him. – Aren’t you always messing about with him, you naughty little girl? the dressmaker returned, with sharpness. Isn’t he round the corner, playing marbles, or – or some jumping game? Miss Pynsent went on, trying to be suggestive. – I assure _you,_ he never plays nothing, said Millicent Henning, with a mature manner which she bore out by adding, And I don’t know why I should be called naughty, neither.