Rover. Paid! why, neither you nor Midge had money enough. No, really!
Harry. Ha, ha, ha! I tell you 'tis.
Rover. You paid? Oh, very well. Every honest fellow should be a stock purse. Come then, let's push on now. Ten miles to Winchester; we shall be there by eleven.
Harry. Our trunks are booked at the inn for the Winchester coach.
Rover. "Ay, to foreign climates my old trunk I bear." But I prefer walking to the car of Thespis.
Harry. Which is the way?
Rover. Here.
Harry. Then, I go there. [Pointing opposite.]
Rover. Eh!
Harry. My dear boy, on this spot, and at this moment, we must part.