"Well," said the old gentleman, twiddling round his wife's card, "you are bent on becoming a fine lady. You pester my poor old life out to get you into the world. You won't be able to hold your own there, you silly little fool. You've got no money."
"You will get us a place," interposed Becky, "as quick as possible."

"Well," said the old gentleman, "you are bent on becoming a fine lady. You pester my poor old life out to get you into the world, but you won't be able to hold your own there, you silly little fool. You've got no money."
"You will get us a place," said Becky.
