"Compensation be d——!" said Neefit. "He must marry her."
"I don't think he will do that."
"You didn't think he would take my money, I suppose; but he did. You didn't think he'd come and spend his Sundays out at my cottage, but he did. You didn't think as he'd come after our Polly down to Ramsgate, but he did. You didn't think as he'd give me his word to make her his wife, but he did." At every assertion that he made, the breeches-maker bobbed forward his bullet head, stretched open his eyes, and stuck out his under lip. During all this excited energy, he was not a man pleasant to the eye. "And now how is it to be, Sir Thomas? That's what I want to know."
"Mr. Newton is nothing to me, Mr. Neefit."
"Oh;—that's all. Nothing to you, ain't he? Wasn't he brought up by you just as a son like? And now he ain't nothing to you! Do you mean to say as he didn't ought to marry my girl?"
"I think he ought not to marry her."
"Not arter his promise?"
Sir Thomas was driven very hard, whereas had the sly old breeches-maker told all his story, there would have been no difficulty at all. "I think such a marriage would lead to the happiness of neither party. If an injury has been done,—as I fear may be too probable,—I will advise my young friend to make any reparation in his power—short of marriage. I can say nothing further, Mr. Neefit."
"And that's your idea of being on the square, Sir Thomas?"
"I can say nothing further, Mr. Neefit. As I have an appointment made, I must ask you to leave me." As Sir Thomas said this, his hand was upon the bell.