“It is not, sir,” Mr. Wegg rejoined, as he sat down on his stool, with an air of gentle resignation, combined with melancholy candour; “it is not a name as I could wish anyone that I had a respect for, to call me by; but there may be persons that would not view it with the same objections.⁠—I don’t know why,” Mr. Wegg added, anticipating another question.

“Noddy Boffin,” said that gentleman. “Noddy. That’s my name. Noddy⁠—or Nick⁠—Boffin. What’s your name?”

“Silas Wegg.⁠—I don’t,” said Mr. Wegg, bestirring himself to take the same precaution as before, “I don’t know why Silas, and I don’t know why Wegg.”