“Has Mr. Stiggins been back?” said Mrs. Weller.

“No, my dear, he hasn’t,” replied Mr. Weller, lighting the pipe by the ingenious process of holding to the bowl thereof, between the tongs, a red-hot coal from the adjacent fire; “and what’s more, my dear, I shall manage to surwive it, if he don’t come back at all.”

“Ugh, you wretch!” said Mrs. Weller.

“Thank’ee, my love,” said Mr. Weller.