"Pooh! that," cried Blobbs, "can never be."
"Think not?" said Webbe. "Well, p'r'aps you're right.
And so—there's nothing more to say.
You must be going? What! so soon?
I'm sorry, sir, you cannot stay!"
Blobbs went—and slammed the outer door.
Webbe calmly made the bill out for
The interview—a lengthy score.
He charged—at highest legal rate—
For every word he'd uttered; and