“Here is your purchase, Mr. Wegg,” says Venus, politely handing it over, “and I am glad to restore it to the source from whence it—flowed.”
“Thankee,” says Wegg. “Now this affair is concluded, I may mention to you in a friendly way that I’ve my doubts whether, if I had consulted a lawyer, you could have kept this article back from me. I only throw it out as a legal point.”
“Do you think so, Mr. Wegg? I bought you in open contract.”
“You can’t buy human flesh and blood in this country, sir; not alive, you can’t,” says Wegg, shaking his head. “Then query, bone?”
“As a legal point?” asks Venus.
“As a legal point.”
“I am not competent to speak upon that, Mr. Wegg,” says Venus, reddening and growing something louder; “but upon a point of fact I think myself competent to speak; and as a point of fact I would have seen you—will you allow me to say, further?”
“I wouldn’t say more than further, if I was you,” Mr. Wegg suggests, pacifically.
—“Before I’d have given that packet into your hand without being paid my price for it. I don’t pretend to know how the point of law may stand, but I’m thoroughly confident upon the point of fact.”
As Mr. Venus is irritable (no doubt owing to his disappointment in love), and as it is not the cue of Mr. Wegg to have him out of temper, the latter gentleman soothingly remarks, “I only put it as a little case; I only put it ha’porthetically.”
“Then I’d rather, Mr. Wegg, you put it another time, penn’orth-etically,” is Mr. Venus’s retort, “for I tell you candidly I don’t like your