I am tired, Catriona, and I am frustrated, and I am trying to explain something that you already ought to know, because you are not a ten-year-old child. I know you have stolen from me. I know Mrs. Wallace has caught you and not told me. Little goes on in this house of which I am not aware. My point is that I know you stole my locket, and I will no longer dance around the accusation. You have it, and I want it back.
