"When I came with your sister from Chiswick, I was scarcely more than a child," Becky said. "How is that, dear love? Oh, her husband was a sad wicked man, and of course it was of me that the poor dear was jealous. As if I cared about him, heigho! when there was somebody--but no--don't let us talk of old times"; and she passed her handkerchief with the tattered lace across her eyelids.

"When I came with your sister from Chiswick, I was scarcely more than a child," Becky said. "How is that dear girl? Oh, her husband was a sad wicked man, and the poor dear was jealous of me. As if I cared about him! when there was somebody - but no - don't let us talk of old times." She passed her handkerchief of tattered lace across her eyelids.
