Oh, one like Mr. Wormington’s.
Lugg.
One like he’s wearing this morning, sir?
Mr. Posket.
Of course, of course, of course.
Lugg.
[To himself.] Fancy him being jealous of Mr. Wormington, now. Very good, sir—what price, sir?
Mr. Posket.
The best. [To himself.] There now, I’ve no money. [Seeing the packet on table.] Oh, pay for it with this, Lugg.
Lugg.