"And he says, 'Capital! If that does not draw custom to the shop, nothing will.' So now, neighbour Bullock, you may just leave off sneering at my sign."
"I did not think Miss Lee had been such a fool," said Bullock, "but there's no accounting for taste."
"Who is the gentleman that is staying at the Elms just now?" asked Mrs. Archer. "Do you know his name?"
"I've heard," said Suds, "but really I quite forget. It either begins with an M or an N."
"That's a wide landmark to sail by, Sheldrake. You might as well have added a P or a Q."
"Stop," said the barber, "I can give you a clue to it. Do you remember, Bullock, the name of the fine sporting gemman who ran off with Parson Rivers's daughter? I was a boy then, serving my time with Sam Strap."
I started from the contemplation of the fine well-grilled beef-steak which Mrs. Archer was dishing for my especial benefit.
"Well," said Sheldrake, "he is either a son or a nefy of his, and has the same name."
"The deuce he is! That was Moncton, if I mistake not. Yes, yes, Moncton was the name. I well remember it, for it was the means of our losing our good old pastor."
"How was that?" said I, trying to look indifferent.