This is him untoe the sister of which I was uncle by marriage, as her name was Georgiana M'ria from her own mother, let him deny it if he can!”

The waiter seemed convinced that I could not deny it, and that it gave the case a black look.

“Young man,” said Pumblechook, screwing his head at me in the old fashion, “you air a going to Joseph.

What does it matter to me, you ask me, where you air a going? I say to you, Sir, you air a going to Joseph.”

The waiter coughed, as if he modestly invited me to get over that.

“Now,” said Pumblechook, and all this with a most exasperating air of saying in the cause of virtue what was perfectly convincing and conclusive,