“Well, are you quite good now?” said he.
My throat began to swell again.
“You treat me like a child!” I cried.
“Yes,” he said, “because it’s only little girls who quarrel with their
bread and butter.”
“Haven’t you punished me enough already?” I said.
“I don’t know,” he answered. “But, if more’s wanted, I hope it will be
with less smart to myself.”