"No!"
"Yes! and he told Brown, I owed him ever so much money."
"No!"
Johnson! what do you do that for? Why in the name of common sense do you say No! no! no! when you thoroughly believe all that poor Dickson has been telling you? This is a peculiar custom. Philosophers, all of you, attend to it. It needs explanation.
"Here's an invitation again from that odious Mrs. Peewitt!" says the fair but excitable Mrs. Framp, as she opens a scented envelope, and extracts therefrom an elegant note. "Yes! here it is:—
"'Mrs. John George Peewitt requests the pleasure of Mr. and Mrs. Framp's company to an evening party on Wednesday the —, at half-past eight.—Plover Lodge, Tuesday morning. An early answer will oblige.'"
"Now, my dear Framp," continues his lady wife, "I literally hate and detest that abominable Mrs. Peewitt!"
"Well, Laura, she is no favourite of mine, I promise you," retorts the male Framp: "and as to that Peewitt, he's a vulgar little brute. So you'd better answer it at once, Laura, declining it, you know—eh?"