"I tell you, Mr. Quirk, that I never had the least idea in the world that this wretch Steggars—Faugh! I should have scouted the whole thing! I would rather have retired from the firm!"
"That's it, Gammon! Go on, Gammon! This is uncommonly funny! It is, indeed, aha!" quoth Quirk, trembling violently.
"This is no time for trifling, sir, believe me. Let me tell you thus much, in all candor—that I certainly had, from the first, misgivings as to the means by which you became possessed of this information; but considering our relative situations, I did not feel myself at liberty to press you on the point—Oh, Mr. Quirk, I am really shocked beyond all bounds! What will the profession say of"—
"D—— the profession! What d'ye suppose I must be just now thinking of you? Why, you'd make a dog strike its father!"
"I may have been unfortunate, Mr. Quirk—I may have been imprudent; but I have never been dishonorable—and I would not for the whole creation have my name associated with this infernal transac"——
"Come, come—who wanted me to forge a tombstone, Gammon?" inquired Mr. Quirk, glancing very keenly at his friend.
"Wanted you to forge a tombstone, sir!" echoed Gammon, with an astounded air.
"Ay! ay! Forge a tombstone!" repeated Mr. Quirk, dropping his voice, and slapping one hand upon the other.
"Upon my word and honor, Mr. Quirk, I pity you! You've lost your senses!"