"Well! I'll be dashed! Some nerve. The way people are raising their children these days, heaven knows where this world is coming to. Fine! Go! You impertinent brash little hussy! Back to the pits of petulence you came from! Sickened from the sweetness of my presence, no doubt. Well good riddance. Good riddance to you! And good riddance to Eliza, wherever the devil she is."
By this point, Henry had hardly even noticed that the child had run off. He wasn't in the habit of paying that sort of attention to people. Attention to himself, yes. But other people? Oh, he couldn't be bothered with such trifles. Trifles? Sort of reminded him of truffles. He wondered if he could find some. And a good cup of tea to go with it. Like something Mrs. Pearce made. Or Eliza made. Damnit, Eliza! He was suddenly feeling quite famished. And there was no one around to serve him.
"Good lord I hope there's a decent delicatessen in this city."