"I told you to name your own charge. Let it be four guineas; if you had said eight I should have paid it."
"Good God!" said the publican, "here's a damned fool that I am. I beg your pardon, sir, I didn't mean you. Now I could punch my own head—will you have breakfast at once, sir, and then we shall begin regular, you know, sir?"
"Have what?"
"Breakfast, breakfast, you know, sir; tea, coffee, cocoa, or chocolate; ham, eggs, or a bit of grilled fowl, cold sirloin of roast beef, or a red herring—anything you like, sir."
"I never take breakfast, so you may spare yourself the trouble of providing anything for me."
"Not take breakfast, sir! not take breakfast! Would you like to take anything to drink then, sir? People say it's an odd time, at eight o'clock in the morning, to drink; but, for my part, I always have thought that you couldn't begin a good thing too soon."
"I live upon drink," said the stranger; "but you have none in the cellar that will suit me."
"Indeed, sir."
"No, no, I am certain."
"Why, we've got some claret now, sir," said the landlord.