a. And you can come down from a balloon in a parach--no you
can't though. Well, say Georgeute--I mean Georgiana.'

'You were going to remark of Georgiana--?' Lammle moodily hinted, after
waiting in vain.

'I was going to remark of Georgiana, sir,' said Fledgeby, not at all
pleased to be reminded of his having forgotten it, 'that she don't seem
to be violent. Don't seem to be of the pitching-in order.'

'She has the gentleness of the dove, Mr Fledgeby.'

'Of course you'll say so,' replied Fledgeby, sharpening, the moment his
interest was touched by another. 'But you know, the real look-out is
this:--what I say, not what you say. I say having my late governor
and my late mother in my eye--that Georgiana don't seem to be of the
pitching-in order.'

The respected Mr Lammle was a bully, by nature and by usual practice.
Perceiving, as Fledgeby's affronts cumulated, that conciliation by no
means answered the purpose here, he now directed a scowling look
into Fledgeby's small eyes for the effect of the opposite treatment.
Satisfied by what he saw there, he burst into a violent passion and
struck his hand upon the table, making the china ring and dance.

'You are a very offensive fellow, sir,' cried Mr Lammle, rising. 'You
are a highly offensive scoundrel. What do you mean by this behaviour?'

'I say!' remonstrated Fledgeby. 'Don't break out.'

'You are a very offensive fellow sir,' repeated Mr Lammle. 'You are a
highly offensive scoundrel!'

'I SAY, you know!' urged Fledgeby, quailing.

'Why, you coarse and vulgar vagabond!' said Mr Lammle, looking fiercely
about him, 'if your servant was here to give me sixpence of your
money to get my boots cleaned afterwards--for you are not worth the
expenditure--I'd kick you.'

'No you wouldn't,' pleaded Fledgeby. 'I am sure you'd think better of
it.'

'I tell you what, Mr Fledgeby,' said Lammle advancing on him. 'Since
you presume to contradict me, I'll assert myself a little. Give me your
nose!'

Fledgeby covered it with his hand instead, and said, retreating, 'I beg
you won't!'

'Give me your nose, sir,' repeated Lammle.

Still covering that feature and backing, Mr Fledgeby reiterated
(apparently with a severe cold in his head), 'I beg, I beg, you won't.'

'And this fellow,' exclaimed Lammle, stopping and making the most of his
chest--'This fellow presumes on my having selected him out of all the
young fellows I know, for an advantageous opportunity! This fellow
pre