"No offence, Doc," said one of them; "but you couldn't get him."
"Couldn't get him! Why couldn't I g-g-get him?"
"He's pious."
"Pious! What do I care?"
"Well, these here pious Quakers are stiff in their notions. But you kin jedge fer yourself 'bout his talkin', fer there's goin' ter be an appinted Quaker meetin' to-morrow night, and he'll speak. You kin go an' listen, if you want to."
"I'll be there, boys, and d-d-don't you forget it. I'll hook him! Never saw anything I couldn't buy if I had a little of the p-p-proper stuff about me. Drink to my l-l-luck, boys, and watch me!"
The landlord filled their glasses once more, and low gurglings, smothered swallows, and loud smacking of lips filled the interim of interrupted conversation.
"I say, Doc, that daughter of yours knows her biz when it comes to telling fortunes," ventured a young dandy, whose head had been turned by Pepeeta's beauty.
"D-d-daughter!" snapped the quack, turning sharply upon him; "she's not my daughter, she's my wife!"
"Wife! Gosh! You don't say?" exclaimed the crestfallen dandy.