"I tell you I've a perfect little paradise of a house engaged, furnished and provisioned for a twelvemonth."
"No doubt of all that."
"As to friends and acquaintances, I have plenty, and of the right stripe, too; I'd swear to that without any reluctance."
"I hope, Peter, you have."
"Then what in faith do you imagine I have in embryo to upset or disturb the even tenor of my way, old boy? Come, answer that."
"Does your domestic apparatus work well?"
"I haven't tried it yet."
"Are your appurtenances—your household appointments—from kitchen to parlor, from coal cellar to top scuttle, all they are cracked up to be?"
"Well, you see, the fact is, I can't tell that, yet."
"Do your chimneys draw? Does your range or cooking stove do things up brown? Have you got your Bettys?"