'You are
right, my dear Sir, she is rather old. She comes of an old family
though, my dear Sir; old in every sense of the word. The founder
of that family came into Kent when Julius Caesar invaded
Britain;--only one member of it, since, who hasn't lived to eighty-five,
and he was beheaded by one of the Henrys. The old lady
is not seventy-three now, my dear Sir.' The little man paused, and
took a pinch of snuff.
'Well,' cried Mr. Jingle.
'Well, my dear sir--you don't take snuff!--ah! so much the
better--expensive habit--well, my dear Sir, you're a fine young
man, man of the world--able to push your fortune, if you had
capital, eh?'
'Well,' said Mr. Jingle again.
'Do you comprehend me?'
'Not quite.'
'Don't you think--now, my dear Sir, I put it to you don't you
think--that fifty pounds and liberty would be better than Miss
Wardle and expectation?'
'Won't do--not half enough!' said Mr. Jingle, rising.
'Nay, nay, my dear Sir,' remonstrated the little attorney,
seizing him by the button. 'Good round sum--a man like you
could treble it in no time--great deal to be done with fifty pounds,
my dear Sir.'
'More to be done with a hundred and fifty,' replied Mr.
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