“Get some of that yellow-sealed wine, Tiggins,” says the Captain. “That other claret we had yesterday is loaded, and disagrees with me infernally!”
I must say I liked the yellow seal much better than Aunt Hoggarty’s Rosolio.
I soon found out what Mr. Tidd was, and what he was longing for.
“Isn’t she a glorious creature?” says he to me.
“Who, sir?” says I.
“Miss Belinda, to be sure!” cried Tidd. “Did mortal ever look upon eyes like hers, or view a more sylph-like figure?”
“She might have a little more flesh, Mr. Tidd,” says the Captain, “and a little less eyebrow. They look vicious, those scowling eyebrows, in a girl. Qu’en dites-vous, Mr. Titmarsh, as Miss Brough would say?”
“I think it remarkably good claret, sir,” says I.
“Egad, you’re the right sort of fellow!” says the Captain. “Volto sciolto, eh? You respect our sleeping host yonder?”
“That I do, sir, as the first man in the city of London, and my managing director.”