“I say , you know!” urged Fledgeby, quailing.

“Why, you coarse and vulgar vagabond!” said Mr. Lammle, looking fiercely about him, “if your servant was here to give me sixpence of your money to get my boots cleaned afterwards⁠—for you are not worth the expenditure⁠—I’d kick you.”

“No you wouldn’t,” pleaded Fledgeby. “I am sure you’d think better of it.”

“I tell you what, Mr. Fledgeby,” said Lammle advancing on him. “Since you presume to contradict me, I’ll assert myself a little. Give me your nose!”

Fledgeby covered it with his hand instead, and said, retreating, “I beg you won’t!”

“Give me your nose, sir,” repeated Lammle.