“Purvis, my Lord; don't you remember him? He's one of the Ricketts's set.”
“To be sure I do. How are you, Purvis? You look so young and so fresh, I could not persuade myself it could be my old acquaintance.”
“I 've taken to homoe-homoe-homoe-homo—” Here he opened his mouth wide, and gasped till he grew black in the face.
“What's the word? Give it him, Haggy. It's all up with him,” said the Viscount.
“Homoeopathy, eh?”
“Just so. Homeo-hom—”
“Confound it, man, can't you be satisfied? when you're once over the fence, you need n't go back to leap it. And how is the dear what's her name Agathe? no, Zoe, how is she?”
“Quite well, my Lord, and would be cha-cha-cha-rmed to see you.”
“Living in that queer humbug still, eh?”
“In the Vill-ino, my Lord, you mean?”