“You shall see ’em and pass your opinion. Mix again.”

On each occasion of his saying “mix again,” Mr. Wegg, with a hop on his wooden leg, hitches his chair a little nearer; more as if he were proposing that himself and Mr. Venus should mix again, than that they should replenish their glasses.

“Living (as I said before) on the mysterious premises,” says Wegg when the other has acted on his hospitable entreaty, “one likes to know. Would you be inclined to say now⁠—as a brother⁠—that he ever hid things in the dust, as well as found ’em?”

“ Mr. Wegg, on the whole I should say he might.”