"Which paper?" asked Mr Jayres.
"Where's the paper?" asked the man, turning to the woman.
"Here," she replied, producing it.
"Oh, yes, I see," said Mr. Jayres, "it's about the Bugwug estate. What is your name, sir?"
"His name is Tobey, and I'm Mrs. Tobey, and we keeps the Gallinipper Laundry, sir, which is in Washington Place, being a very respectable neighborhood, though the prices is low owing to competition of a party across the street."
"Now, Maggie," said the man, "let me talk."
"Who's hindering you from talking, Tobey? I'm not, and that's certain. The gentleman wanted to know who we were, and I've told him. He'd been a week finding out from you."
"Come, come," said Mr. Jayres sharply, "let's get to business."
"That's what I said," replied Mrs. Tobey, "while I was putting on my things to come down town. 'Tobey,' says I, 'get right to business. Don't be wasting the gentleman's time,' which he always does, sir, halting and hesitating and not knowing what to say, nor ever coming to the point. 'It's bad manners,' says I, 'and what's more, these lawyers,' says I, 'which is very sharp folks, wont stand it,' says I. But I don't suppose I done him much good, for he's always been that way, sir, though I'm sure I've worked my best to spur him up. But a poor, weak woman can't do everything, though you'd think he thought so, if—"
"Oh, now stop, stop, stop!" cried Mr. Jayres, "you mustn't run on so. Your name is Tobey and you have called about the Bugwug property. Well, now, what of it?"