"Is it Mrs. Harris?" inquired Mrs. Prig, solemnly.
"Yes, Betsy Prig, it is," snapped Mrs. Gamp, angrily, "that very person herself, and no other, which, after twenty years of trust, I never know'd nor never expected to, which it 'urts a feeling 'art even to name her name as henceforth shall be nameless betwixt us twain."
"Oh, shall it?" retorted Mrs. Prig, shortly. "Why bless the woman, if I'd said that, you'd ha' bitten the nose off my face, as is your nature to, as the poick says."
"Don't you say nothink against poicks, Betsey, and I'll say nothink against musicians," retorted Mrs. Gamp, mysteriously.
"Oh! then it was to call me over the Carpet that you sent for me so sudden and peremptory?" rejoined Mrs. Prig, with a smile.
"Drat the Carpet!!!" again ejaculated Mrs. Gamp, with astonishing fierceness. "Wot do you know about the Carpet, Betsey?"
"Why nothink at all, my dear; nor don't want to," replied Mrs. Prig, with surprise.
"Oh!" retorted Mrs. Gamp, "you don't, don't you? Well, then, I do, and it's time you did likewise, if pardners we are to remain who 'ave pardners been so long."
Mrs. Prig muttered something not quite audible, but which sounded suspiciously like, "'Ard wuck!"
"Which share and share alike is my mortar," continued Mrs. Gamp; "that as bin my princerple, and I've found it pay. But Injin Carpets for our mutual 'ome, of goldiun lustre and superfluos shine, as tho' we wos Arabian Knights, I cannot and I will not stand. It is the last stror as camels could not forgive. No, Betsey," added Mr. Gamp, in a violent burst of feeling, "nor crokydiles forget!"