She was quite the rage, in a small way, you know. Who knows?—on the analogy of “Squiggles” she might come to call him “Mangles!” “I don’t think I can ever marry any one,” she said, and fell suddenly into another set of considerations that perplexed her for a time. From her stomacher, to which it was attached by a multitude of glittering steel chains, depended an immense turnip-shaped watch, in a pinchbeck case. "Do you think I'm afeard of a beggarly thief-taker and his myrmidons? Not I. Puffy blue curtains dressed every oakstained window.
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