“I hope you are, sir,” replied Dodson; “I trust you may be, sir. If you are really innocent of what is laid to your charge, you are more unfortunate than I had believed any man could possibly be. What do you say, Mr. Fogg?”
“I say precisely what you say,” replied Fogg, with a smile of incredulity.
“The writ, sir, which commences the action,” continued Dodson, “was issued regularly. Mr. Fogg, where is the præcipe book?”
“Here it is,” said Fogg, handing over a square book, with a parchment cover.
“Here is the entry,” resumed Dodson. “‘Middlesex, Capias Martha Bardell, widow, v. Samuel Pickwick. Damages, £1500. Dodson and Fogg for the plaintiff, Aug. 28, 1830.’ All regular, sir; perfectly.” Dodson coughed and looked at Fogg, who said “Perfectly,” also. And then they both looked at Mr. Pickwick.
“I am to understand, then,” said Mr. Pickwick, “that it really is your intention to proceed with this action?”
“Understand, sir? That you certainly may,” replied Dodson, with something as near a smile as his importance would allow.
“And that the damages are actually laid at fifteen hundred pounds?” said Mr. Pickwick.
“To which understanding you may add my assurance, that if we could have prevailed upon our client, they would have been laid at treble the amount, sir,” replied Dodson.
“I believe Mrs. Bardell specially said, however,” observed Fogg, glancing at Dodson, “that she would not compromise for a farthing less.”