“But,” sighed the lad wearily, “it will cost so much.”
“Well?” said the professor, “What of that? I am not a poor man. I never spend my money.”
“Oh! if it came to that,” said the lawyer, taking some more snuff and snapping his fingers, “young Lawrence here has a pretty good balance lying idle.”
“Mr Burne, for shame!” cried Mrs Dunn; “here have I been waiting to hear you speak, and you encourage the wild idea, instead of stamping upon it like a black beadle.”
“Wild idea, ma’am?” cried the lawyer, blowing a defiant blast.
“Yes, sir; to talk about taking that poor weak sickly boy off into foreign lands among savages, and cannibals, and wild beasts, and noxious reptiles.”
“Stuff, ma’am, stuff!”
“But it isn’t stuff, sir. The doctor said—”
“Hang the doctor, ma’am!” cried the lawyer. “The doctor can’t cure him, poor lad, so let’s see if we can’t do a little better.”
“Why, I believe you approve of it, sir!” cried Mrs Dunn with a horror-stricken look.