“ ‘I dare say you did, Sir,’ said Tom Smart.

“ ‘However,’ said the old gentleman, ‘that’s not the point. Tom! I want you to marry the widow.’

“ ‘Me, Sir!’ said Tom.

“ ‘You,’ said the old gentleman.

“ ‘Bless your reverend locks,’ said Tom (he had a few scattered horse-hairs left)⁠—‘bless your reverend locks, she wouldn’t have me.’ And Tom sighed involuntarily, as he thought of the bar.