'Against the rules,' said Mr. Tuckle. 'Too late, too late.'
'No, no; positively I couldn't help it,' said the gentleman in
blue. 'I appeal to the company. An affair of gallantry now, an
appointment at the theayter.'
'Oh, that indeed,' said the gentleman in the orange plush.
'Yes; raly now, honour bright,' said the man in blue. 'I made a
promese to fetch our youngest daughter at half-past ten, and she
is such an uncauminly fine gal, that I raly hadn't the 'art to
disappint her. No offence to the present company, Sir, but a
petticut, sir--a petticut, Sir, is irrevokeable.'
'I begin to suspect there's something in that quarter,' said
Tuckle, as the new-comer took his seat next Sam, 'I've remarked,
once or twice, that she leans very heavy on your shoulder when
she gets in and out of the carriage.'
'Oh, raly, raly, Tuckle, you shouldn't,' said the man in blue.
'It's not fair. I may have said to one or two friends that she wos a
very divine creechure, and had refused one or two offers without
any hobvus cause, but--no, no, no, indeed, Tuckle--before
strangers, too--it's not right--you shouldn't. Delicacy, my
dear friend, delicacy!' And the man in blue, pulling up his
neckerchief, and adjusting his coat cuffs, nodded and frowned as
if there were more behind, which he could say if he liked, but was
bound in honour to suppress.
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