'No,' replied Jogglebury unconcernedly. 'No; I'll leave a (puff) card for
him (wheeze),' added he, fumbling in his wallet behind for his card-case.
'My (puff) object is to pay my (wheeze) respects to you,' observed he,
drawing a great carved Indian case from his pocket, and pulling off the top
with a noise like the drawing of a cork.
'Much obliged for the compliment,' observed Mr. Sponge, as Jogglebury
fumbled and broke his nails in attempting to get a card out.
'Do you stay long in this part of the world?' asked he, as at last he
succeeded, and commenced tapping the corners of the card on the table.
'I really don't know,' replied Mr. Sponge, as the particulars of his
situation flashed across his mind. Could this pudding-headed man be a chap
Puffington had got to come and sound him, thought he.
Jogglebury sat silent for a time, examining his feet attentively as if to
see they were pairs, and scrutinizing the bags of his cinnamon-coloured
trousers.
'I was going to say (hem--cough--hem),' at length observed he, looking up,
'that's to say, I was thinking (hem--wheeze--cough--hem), or rather I
should say, Mrs.
Pages:
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636