ng to do with him,' said
Mrs Gamp.

'And that's what I was wanted for, is it?' cried Mrs Prig, triumphantly.
'Yes. But you'll find yourself deceived. I won't go near him. We shall
see how you get on without me. I won't have nothink to do with him.'

'You never spoke a truer word than that!' said Mrs Gamp. 'Go along with
you!'

She was prevented from witnessing the actual retirement of Mrs Prig from
the room, notwithstanding the great desire she had expressed to behold
it, by that lady, in her angry withdrawal, coming into contact with the
bedstead, and bringing down the previously mentioned pippins; three or
four of which came rattling on the head of Mrs Gamp so smartly, that
when she recovered from this wooden shower-bath, Mrs Prig was gone.

She had the satisfaction, however, of hearing the deep voice of Betsey,
proclaiming her injuries and her determination to have nothing to do
with Mr Chuffey, down the stairs, and along the passage, and even out in
Kingsgate Street. Likewise of seeing in her own apartment, in the place
of Mrs Prig, Mr Sweedlepipe and two gentlemen.

'Why, bless my life!' exclaimed the little barber, 'what's amiss? The
noise you ladies have been making, Mrs Gamp! Why, these two gentlemen
have been standing on the stairs, outside the door, nearly all the time,
trying to make you hear, while you were pelting away, hammer and tongs!
It'll be the death of the little bullfinch in the shop, that draws his
own water. In his fright, he's been a-straining himself all to bits,
drawing more water than he could drink in a twelvemonth. He must have
thought it was Fire!'

Mrs Gamp had in the meanwhile sunk into her chair, from whence, turning
up her overflowing eyes, and clasping her hands, she delivered the
following lamentation:

'Oh, Mr Sweedlepipes, which Mr Westlock also, if my eyes do not deceive,
and a friend not havin' the pleasure of bein' beknown, wot I have took
from Betsey Prig this blessed night, no mortial creetur knows! If she
had abuged me, bein' in liquor, which I thought I smelt her wen she
come, but could not so believe, not bein' used myself'--Mrs Gamp, by the
way, was pretty far gone, and the fragrance of the teapot was strong in
the room--'I could have bore it with a thankful art. But the words she
spoke of Mrs Harris, lambs could not forgive. No, Betsey!' said Mrs
Gamp, in a violent burst of feeling, 'nor worms forget!'

The little barber scratched his head, and shook it, and looke