‘And you needn’t Mr. Venus be your black bottle, For surely I’ll be mine, And we’ll take a glass with a slice of lemon in it to which you’re partial, For auld lang syne.’ ”

This flow of quotation and hospitality in Wegg indicated his observation of some little querulousness on the part of Venus.

“Why, as to the friendly move,” observed the last-named gentleman, rubbing his knees peevishly, “one of my objections to it is, that it don’t move.”

“Rome, brother,” returned Wegg: “a city which (it may not be generally known) originated in twins and a wolf; and ended in imperial marble: wasn’t built in a day.”

“Did I say it was?” asked Venus.