The Princess Casamassima by Henry James, Fiction, Literary

The child looked up from her dandling and patting, and after a stare of which the blankness was somewhat exaggerated, replied: "Law no, Miss Pynsent, I never see him." -- "Aren't you always messing about with him, you naughty little girl?" the dressmaker returned, with sharpness. "Isn't he round the corner, playing marbles, or -- or some jumping game?" Miss Pynsent went on, trying to be suggestive. -- "I assure you, he never plays nothing," said Millicent Henning, with a mature manner which she bore out by adding, "And I don't know why I should be called naughty, neither."