won't raise no manner of objection."

Zora, regarding the egoist with mingled admiration and vexedness, could
only say, "Oh!"

"I never raised no objection to his marriage from the first," said
Wiggleswick.

"Did he consult you about it?"

"Of course he did," he replied with an indulgent smile, while the light of
sportive fancy gleamed behind his blear eyes. "He looks on me as a father,
he does, ma'am. 'Wiggleswick,' says he, 'I'm going to be married.' 'I'm
delighted to hear it, sir,' says I. 'A man needs a woman's 'and about him,'
says I."

"When did he tell you this?"

Wiggleswick searched his inventive memory.

"About a fortnight ago. 'If I may be so bold, sir, who is the young lady?'
I asks. 'It's Miss Emily Oldrieve,' says he, and I said, 'A nicer,
brighter, prettier bit of goods'--I beg your pardon, ma'am--'young lady,
you couldn't pick up between here and Houndsditch.' I did say that, ma'am,
I tell you straight." He looked at her keenly to see whether this
expression of loyal admiration of his new mistress had taken effect, and
then continued. "And then he says to me, 'Wiggleswick, there ain't going to
be no grand wedding. You know me.'--And I does, ma'am. The outlandish
things he does, ma'am, would shock an alligator.--'I should forget the
day,' says he. 'I should lose the ring. I should marry the wrong party. I