‘And as the wife of Alfred, may I, dear Mr Fledgeby, wholly without his authority or knowledge, as I am sure your discernment will perceive, entreat you to continue that great service, and once more use your well-earned influence with Mr Riah for a little more indulgence? The name I have heard Alfred mention, tossing in his dreams, is Riah; is it not?’
‘The name of the Creditor is Riah,’ said Mr Fledgeby, with a rather uncompromising accent on his noun-substantive. ‘Saint Mary Axe. Pubsey and Co.’
‘Oh yes!’ exclaimed Mrs Lammle, clasping her hands with a certain gushing wildness. ‘Pubsey and Co.!’
‘The pleading of the feminine—’ Mr Fledgeby began, and there stuck so long for a word to get on with, that Mrs Lammle offered him sweetly, ‘Heart?’
‘No,’ said Mr Fledgeby, ‘Gender—is ever what a man is bound to listen to, and I wish it rested with myself. But this Riah is a nasty one, Mrs Lammle; he really is.’
‘Not if you speak to him, dear Mr Fledgeby.’
‘Upon my soul and body he is!’ said Fledgeby.
‘Try. Try once more, dearest Mr Fledgeby. What is there you cannot do, if you will!’
‘Thank you,’ said Fledgeby, ‘you’re very complimentary to say so. I don’t mind trying him again, at your request. But of course I can’t answer for the consequences. Riah is a tough subject, and when he says he’ll do a thing, he’ll do it.’
‘Exactly so,’ cried Mrs Lammle, ‘and when he says to you he’ll wait, he’ll wait.’