“I think,” said Rokesmith, when they all stood about her, while she packed her tidy basket⁠—except Bella, who was busily helping on her knees at the chair on which it stood; “that at least you might keep a letter in your pocket, Mrs. Higden, which I would write for you and date from here, merely stating, in the names of Mr. and Mrs. Boffin, that they are your friends;⁠—I won’t say patrons, because they wouldn’t like it.”

“No, no, no,” said Mr. Boffin; “no patronizing! Let’s keep out of that , whatever we come to.”

“There’s more than enough of that about, without us; ain’t there, Noddy?” said Mrs. Boffin.