"Yes, yes, there's no occasion. Watson, could you not at once—eh? It is a good hour. Could you not go right through the house, my good Watson, and at once—eh?"
"At once what?"
"Oh, you know. Ha! ha! You are not the dull fellow at comprehending a meaning you would fain make out; but you, Watson—you understand me well enough, you know you do. We understand each other, and always shall."
"I hope so, but if you want anything done I'll trouble you to speak out. What do you mean by 'couldn't you go through the house at once—eh?'"
"Pho! pho! Put her down the well at once. Humanity calls upon us to do it. Why should she awaken to a sense of her disappointment, Watson? Put her down at once, and she will never awaken at all to a sense of anything."
"Very well. Come on, business is business."
"You—you don't want me?"
"Don't I," said Watson, bending his shaggy brows upon him, and looking extra hideous on account of a large black patch over one eye, which he bore as a relict of his encounter with Tobias. "Don't I? Hark you, Fogg; if you won't come and help me to do it, you shall have it to do by yourself, without me at all."
"Why—why, Watson, Watson. This language—"
"Is nothing new, Fogg."