‘I know what it means, numbskull! Didn’t spend years in the confounded country without picking up some of their infernal tongue. But that other world, in spite of her resolute exclusion of it, was always looking round corners and peeping through chinks and crannies, and rustling and raiding into the order in which she chose to live, shining out of pictures at her, echoing in lyrics and music; it invaded her dreams, it wrote up broken and enigmatical sentences upon the passage walls of her mind. ‘And what is it you’re to rescue her from, I should like to know. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him.
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