“And I know what that is, love,” said she.

“You do, my darling⁠—that I came into the room all but uttering young Fledgeby’s name. Tell Georgiana, dearest, about young Fledgeby.”

“Oh no, don’t! Please don’t!” cried Miss Podsnap, putting her fingers in her ears. “I’d rather not.”

Mrs. Lammle laughed in her gayest manner, and, removing her Georgiana’s unresisting hands, and playfully holding them in her own at arms’ length, sometimes near together and sometimes wide apart, went on: