'Pray, Sir,' said she, to our fellow traveller, 'what is your opinion of novels? Ant they all love and nonsense, and the most unpossible lies possible?'
'They are fictions, certainly,' said he.
'Surely, Sir,' exclaimed I, 'you do not mean to call them fictions.'
'Why no,' replied he, 'not absolute fictions.'
'But,' cried the big lady, 'you don't pretend to call them true.'
'Why no,' said he, 'not absolutely true.'
'Then,' cried I, 'you are on both sides of the question at once.'
He trod on my foot.
'Ay, that you are,' said the big lady.
He trod on her foot.