“For good,” said Mr. Boffin.

Sloppy stared, with both his eyes and all his buttons, and his mouth wide open; but was without loss of time escorted forth by Silas Wegg, pushed out at the yard gate by the shoulders, and locked out.

“The atomspear,” said Wegg, stumping back into the room again, a little reddened by his late exertion, “is now freer for the purposes of respiration. Mr. Venus, sir, take a chair. Boffin, you may sit down.”

Mr. Boffin, still with his hands ruefully stuck in his pockets, sat on the edge of the settle, shrunk into a small compass, and eyed the potent Silas with conciliatory looks.