“A what, sir? begging pardon—”
“It’s what we lawyers call an innuendo: that is to say, making out that a man says so and so when he doesn’t.”
“I zee,” said the artful Snooks, quick at apprehending every point. “Then if he called a chap a devilish honest man and the innu—what d’ye call it, meant he were a thief, you got him?”
“Well,” said Mr. Locust, smiling, “that is going rather far, Mr. Snooks, but I see you understand what I mean.”
“I thinks so, sir. I thinks I has your meanin.”
“It’s a very gross slander,” observed Mr. Locust, “and especially upon a tradesman in your position. I suppose now you have lived in the neighbourhood a considerable time?”
“All my life, sir.”
“Ah! just so, just so—now let me see; and, if I remember rightly, you have a vote for the County.”
“I ave, sir, and allus votes blue, and that’s moore.”
“Then you’re on our side. I’m very glad indeed to hear that; a vote’s a vote, you know, now-a-days.”