"They had better drop her as quietly as possible," rejoins Mr.
Keepum, drawing his white glove from off his right hand, and
extending his cigar case.

Mr. Snivel having helped himself to a cigar, says: "D-n me, if she
didn't faint in my arms last night. I made a discovery that brought
something of deep interest back to her mind, and gave her timbers
such a shock! I watched, and read the whole story in her emotions.
One accustomed to the sharps of the legal profession can do this
sort of thing. She is afraid of approaching this beautiful creature,
Anna Bonard, seeing the life she lives, and the suspicions it might
create in fashionable society, did she pursue such a course to the
end of finding out whether she be really the lost child of the
relative she refers to so often. Her object is to find one Mag
Munday, who used to knock about here, and with whom the child was
left. But enough of this for the present." Thus saying, they enter
the house of the old antiquary, and finding no one but Maria at
home, Mr. Snivel takes the liberty of throwing his arms about her
waist. This done, he attempts to drag her across the room and upon
the sofa. "Neither your father nor you ever had a better friend," he
says, as the girl struggles from his grasp, shrinks at his feet,
and, with a look of disdain, upbraids him for his attempt to take
advantage of a lone female.

"High, ho!" interposes Keepum, "what airs these sort of people put
on, eh? Don't amount to much, no how; they soon get over them, you
know. A blasted deal of assumption, as you say. Ha, ha, ha! I rather
like this sort of modesty. 'Tis n't every one can put it on
cleverly." Mr. Snivel winks to Keepum, who makes an ineffectual