“The gentlefolks can’t hear themselves speak, Sloppy. Bide a bit, bide a bit!”

“Is that the dear child in your lap?” said Mrs. Boffin.

“Yes, ma’am, this is Johnny.”

“Johnny, too!” cried Mrs. Boffin, turning to the Secretary; “already Johnny! Only one of the two names left to give him! He’s a pretty boy.”

With his chin tucked down in his shy childish manner, he was looking furtively at Mrs. Boffin out of his blue eyes, and reaching his fat dimpled hand up to the lips of the old woman, who was kissing it by times.