"No, she either doesn`t understand or is pretending," thought Pierre. "Better not say anything to her either."

‘Yes,’ replied Squeers. ‘You can’t wash yourself this morning.’

‘Mobbs’s step–mother,’ said Squeers, ‘took to her bed on hearing that he wouldn’t eat fat, and has been very ill ever since. She wishes to know, by an early post, where he expects to go to, if he quarrels with his vittles; and with what feelings he could turn up his nose at the cow’s–liver broth, after his good master had asked a blessing on it. This was told her in the London newspapers—not by Mr Squeers, for he is too kind and too good to set anybody against anybody—and it has vexed her so much, Mobbs can’t think. She is sorry to find he is discontented, which is sinful and horrid, and hopes Mr Squeers will flog him into a happier state of mind; with which view, she has also stopped his halfpenny a week pocket–money, and given a double–bladed knife with a corkscrew in it to the Missionaries, which she had bought on purpose for him.’