“I thought they were talking rather too much to be doing their work properly, my dear,” replied Mr. Bumble: glancing distractedly at a couple of old women at the washtub, who were comparing notes of admiration at the workhouse-master’s humility.

“ You thought they were talking too much?” said Mrs. Bumble. “What business is it of yours?”

“Why, my dear⁠—” urged Mr. Bumble submissively.

“What business is it of yours?” demanded Mrs. Bumble, again.