I'll try if I can't fuddle the fool, and get rid of him that way. [Aside.]
SERJEANT.
I could not have thought it: why where the deuce did you pick up all this? But by the bye, pray who was the cryer?
Sir LUKE.
Did not you know her? Mrs. Simper, your neighbour.
SERJEANT.
A pestilent jade! she's a good one I warrant.
Sir LUKE.
She is thought very pretty; what say you to a glass in her favor?
SERJEANT.