'Good morning, my dear Mrs.
Springwheat,' repeated he, adding, 'By Jove! if ever there was an angel in
petticoats, you're her; I'd give a hundred pounds for such a wife as you!
I'd give a thousand pounds for such a wife as you! By the powers! I'd give
five thousand pounds for such a wife as you!' With which asseverations his
lordship stamped away in his great clumsy boots, amidst the ill-suppressed
laughter of the party.
'No hurry, gentlemen--no hurry,' observed Mr. Springwheat, as some of the
keen ones were preparing to follow, and began sorting their hats, and
making the mistakes incident to their being all the same shape. 'No hurry,
sir--no hurry, sir,' repeated Springwheat, addressing Mr. Sponge
specifically; 'his lordship will have a talk to his hounds yet, and his
horse is still in the stable.'
With this assurance Mr. Sponge resumed his seat at the table, where several
of the hungry ones were plying their knives and forks as if they were
indeed breaking their fasts.
'Well, old boy, and how are you?' asked Sponge, as the whites of Jack's
eyes again settled upon him, on the latter's looking up from his plateful
of sausages.
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