“It must have been the cook,” said Mary.
“O’ course it must,” said Sam.
“Well, I never heard the like of that!” exclaimed Mary.
“No more did I,” said Sam. “But Mary, my dear:” here Sam’s manner grew extremely affectionate: “Mary, my dear, I’ve got another affair in hand as is wery pressin’. There’s one o’ my governor’s friends—Mr. Winkle, you remember him?”
“Him in the green coat?” said Mary. “Oh yes, I remember him.”
“Well,” said Sam, “he’s in a horrid state o’ love; reg’larly comfoozled, and done over with it.”
“Lor!” interposed Mary.
“Yes,” said Sam: “but that’s nothing if we could find out the young ’ooman;” and here Sam, with many digressions upon the personal beauty of Mary, and the unspeakable tortures he had experienced since he last saw her, gave a faithful account of Mr. Winkle’s present predicament.
“Well,” said Mary, “I never did!”
“O’ course not,” said Sam, “nobody never did, nor never vill neither; and here am I a walkin’ about like the Wandering Jew—a sportin’ character you have perhaps heerd on, Mary, my dear, as wos alvays doin’ a match agin’ time, and never vent to sleep—looking arter this here Miss Arabella Allen.”