“Come!” said the stranger, biting his forefinger at him. “Don't evade the question. Either you know it, or you don't know it. Which is it to be?”

He stood with his head on one side and himself on one side, in a bullying, interrogative manner, and he threw his forefinger at Mr. Wopsle, — as it were to mark him out — before biting it again.

“Now!” said he.

“Do you know it, or don't you know it?”

“Certainly I know it,” replied Mr. Wopsle.

“Certainly you know it. Then why didn't you say so at first? Now, I'll ask you another question,” — taking possession of Mr. Wopsle, as if he had a right to him, —