Mr. Wegg whispered, “Boffin’s Bower.”

“Eddard! (keep yer hi on his ears) cut away to Boffin’s Bower!”

Edward, with his ears lying back, remained immoveable.

“Eddard! (keep yer hi on his ears) cut away to Old Harmon’s.” Edward instantly pricked up his ears to their utmost, and rattled off at such a pace that Mr. Wegg’s conversation was jolted out of him in a most dislocated state.

“Was-it-Ev-verajail?” asked Mr. Wegg, holding on.

“Not a proper jail, wot you and me would get committed to,” returned his escort; “they giv’ it the name, on accounts of Old Harmon living solitary there.”

“And-why-did-they-callitharm-Ony?” asked Wegg.