Mr. Wegg claps on his spectacles, and admiringly surveys Mr. Venus from head to foot.

“As a mortal equally with myself, whose hand I take in mine for the first time this day, having unaccountably overlooked that act so full of boundless confidence binding a fellow-creetur to a fellow creetur,” says Wegg, holding Mr. Venus’s palm out, flat and ready for smiting, and now smiting it; “as such⁠—and no other⁠—for I scorn all lowlier ties betwixt myself and the man walking with his face erect that alone I call my Twin⁠—regarded and regarding in this trustful bond⁠—what do you think he might have hid?”

“It is but a supposition, Mr. Wegg.”