"Hum!" said Bellew.
"Ah! but you ought to see her when she comes to tuck me up at night, with her hair all down, an' hanging all about her—like a shiny cloak, you know."
"Hum!" said Bellew.
"Please Uncle Porges," said Georgy, turning to look up at him, "what makes you hum so much this morning?"
"I was thinking, my Porges."
"'Bout my Auntie Anthea?"
"I do admit the soft impeachment, sir."
"Well, I'm thinking too."
"What is it, old chap?"
"I'm thinking we ought to begin to find that fortune for her after breakfast."