"Polly, you know what I mean."
"I know you made a great goose of yourself last night, and I didn't feel a bit obliged to you."
"No, I didn't. I wasn't a goose at all. I don't say but what I'm as big a fool as most men. I don't mean to stick up for myself. I know well enough that I am foolish often. But I wasn't foolish last night. What was he there for?"
"What business have you to ask, Mr. Moggs?"
"All the business in life. Love;—real love. That's why I have business. That young man, who is, I suppose, what you call a swell."
"Don't put words into my mouth, Mr. Moggs. I don't call him anything of the kind."
"He's a gentleman."
"Yes;—he is a gentleman,—I suppose."
"And I'm a tradesman,—a bootmaker."
"So is father a tradesman, and if you mean to tell me that I turn up my nose at people the same as father is, you may just go back to London and think what you like about me. I won't put up with it from you or anybody. A tradesman to me is as good as anybody,—if he is as good. There."