“Keeps the organ moist, does it, Wegg?” asked Mr. Boffin, with innocent eagerness.

“N-no, sir,” replied Wegg, coolly, “I should hardly describe it so, sir. I should say, mellers it. Mellers it, is the word I should employ, Mr. Boffin.”

His wooden conceit and craft kept exact pace with the delighted expectation of his victim. The visions rising before his mercenary mind, of the many ways in which this connection was to be turned to account, never obscured the foremost idea natural to a dull overreaching man, that he must not make himself too cheap.