It’s not every one as wants one, sir.
[Mr. Wormington goes out; at the same moment Mr. Posket enters quickly, and leans on his chair as if exhausted. His appearance is extremely wretched; he is still in evening dress, but his clothes are muddy, and his linen soiled and crumpled, while across the bridge of his nose he has a small strip of black plaster.
Mr. Posket.
[Faintly.] Good morning, Lugg.
Lugg.
Good morning to you, sir. Regretting the liberty I’m taking, sir—I’ve seen you look more strong and hearty.
Mr. Posket.
I am fairly well, thank you, Lugg. My night was rather—rather disturbed. Lugg!
Lugg.