The dejected Mrs. Cruncher shook her head.
`Why, you're at it afore my face!' said Mr. Cruncher, with signs of angry apprehension.
`Well, then; don't meditate nothing. You might as well meditate. You may as well go again me one way as another. Drop it altogether.'
`Yes, Jerry,' repeated Mr. Cruncher, sitting down to tea. `Ah! It is yes, Jerry. That's about it. You may say yes, Jerry.'
Mr. Cruncher had no particular meaning in these sulky corroborations, but made use of them, as people not unfrequently do, to express general ironical dissatisfaction.
`You and your yes, Jerry,' said Mr. Cruncher, taking a bite out of his bread-and-butter, and seeming to help it down with a large invisible oyster out of his saucer. `Ah! I think so. I believe you.'
`You are going out to-night?' asked his decent wife, when he took another bite.
`May I go with you, father?' asked his son, briskly.