‘I knew you would be,’ said Mr. Omer. ‘And Joram and Minnie are like Valentines. What more can a man expect? What’s his limbs to that!’

His supreme contempt for his own limbs, as he sat smoking, was one of the pleasantest oddities I have ever encountered.

‘And since I’ve took to general reading, you’ve took to general writing, eh, sir?’ said Mr. Omer, surveying me admiringly. ‘What a lovely work that was of yours! What expressions in it! I read it every word — every word. And as to feeling sleepy! Not at all!’

I laughingly expressed my satisfaction, but I must confess that I thought this association of ideas significant.

‘I give you my word and honour, sir,’