"You have, Mr. Gibb, I admit it; still as I don't know what your type of beauty really is your remark conveys little to me."
"It would convey more, sir, if you were to see her. You wouldn't want to see her twice to know that she's the most beautiful young lady ever you set eyes on. I feel sure of it. I wish you would see her, sir."
"May I ask, Mr. Gibb, what it is you're driving at? Why should I see her?"
"So that you might understand."
"Understand what?"
"How it is."
"How what is? I'll trouble you, Mr. Gibb, to be a trifle more explicit. Where's this lady of birth and breeding, who's as high as the heavens above you, to be found?"
"She's lodging at my mother's. Yes, sir, I don't wonder you look surprised; I know it's no place for a lady, especially one like her; and that's the trouble, she is a lady; I know a lady when I see one as well as I know a gentleman."
"You must forgive me, Mr. Gibb, but I'm wondering if you do; it's not every one who can tell a lady by the look of her."
"Perhaps not, sir; but you can. If you saw her you'd soon tell. She'd have found something long ago she could have turned her hand to if she'd been one of your common sort; but that's the mischief, she's a lady; and I happen to know that she's in a very bad way. She lost her father and her mother, and she doesn't seem to have a friend in the world; if she doesn't find something soon by which she can earn a little money I don't know what will become of her. I wish you would see her, sir."