“Pardon me,” Mrs. Wilfer again interposed; “they were not young persons. Two young ladies of the highest respectability. Tell your father, Bella, whether the milkman said so.”

“My dear, it is the same thing.”

“No it is not,” said Mrs. Wilfer, with the same impressive monotony. “Pardon me!”

“I mean, my dear, it is the same thing as to space. As to space. If you have no space in which to put two youthful fellow-creatures, however eminently respectable, which I do not doubt, where are those youthful fellow-creatures to be accommodated? I carry it no further than that. And solely looking at it,” said her husband, making the stipulation at once in a conciliatory, complimentary, and argumentative tone⁠—“as I am sure you will agree, my love⁠—from a fellow-creature point of view, my dear.”