“Handsome would be the word,” returned my sister.
“Well, then,” said Joe, “It's more than twenty pound.”
That abject hypocrite, Pumblechook, nodded again, and said, with a patronizing laugh, “It's more than that, Mum.
Good again! Follow her up, Joseph!”
“Then to make an end of it,” said Joe, delightedly handing the bag to my sister; “it's five-and-twenty pound.”
“It's five-and-twenty pound, Mum,” echoed that basest of swindlers, Pumblechook, rising to shake hands with her; “and it's no more than your merits (as I said when my opinion was asked), and I wish you joy of the money!”