“The Worshipful the Mayor,” said Mr. Datchery, with a low bow, “places me under an infinite obligation.”
“Very good people, sir, Mr. and Mrs. Tope,” said Mr. Sapsea, with condescension. “Very good opinions. Very well behaved. Very respectful. Much approved by the Dean and Chapter.”
“The Worshipful the Mayor gives them a character,” said Mr. Datchery, “of which they may indeed be proud. I would ask His Honour (if I might be permitted) whether there are not many objects of great interest in the city which is under his beneficent sway?”
“We are, sir,” returned Mr. Sapsea, “an ancient city, and an ecclesiastical city. We are a constitutional city, as it becomes such a city to be, and we uphold and maintain our glorious privileges.”
“His Honour,” said Mr. Datchery, bowing, “inspires me with a desire to know more of the city, and confirms me in my inclination to end my days in the city.”
“Retired from the Army, sir?” suggested Mr. Sapsea.
“His Honour the Mayor does me too much credit,” returned Mr. Datchery.
“Navy, sir?” suggested Mr. Sapsea.
“Again,” repeated Mr. Datchery, “His Honour the Mayor does me too much credit.”
“Diplomacy is a fine profession,” said Mr. Sapsea, as a general remark.