I don't talk nonsense: people CAN make money without earning it.
And when they do, why it's like taking a lot of spirits at one
draught; it gets into their head, and they don't know what they're
about. And you're in that state now, Mr. Caudle: I'm sure of it, by
the way of you. There's a tipsiness of the pocket as well as of the
stomach--and you're in that condition at this very moment.

"Not that I should so much mind--that is, if you HAVE made money--if
you'd stop at the Eel-Pie line. But I know what these things are:
they're like treacle to flies: when men are well in 'em, they can't
get out of 'em: or, if they do, it's often without a feather to fly
with. No: if you've really made money by the Eel-Pie line, and will
give it to me to take care of for the dear children, why, perhaps,
love, I'll say no more of the matter. What?

"NONSENSE?

"Yes, of course: I never ask you for money, but that's the word.

"And now, catch you stopping at the Eel-Pie line! Oh no; I know your
aggravating spirit. In a day or two I shall see another fine
flourish in the paper, with a proposal for a branch from Eel-Pie
Island to the Chelsea Bun-house. Give you a mile of rail, and--I
know you men--you'll take a hundred. Well, if it didn't make me
quiver to read that stuff in the paper,--and your name to it! But I
suppose it was Mr. Prettyman's work; for his precious name's among
'em. How you tell the people 'that eel-pies are now become an
essential element of civilisation'--I learnt all the words by heart,
that I might say 'em to you--'that the Eastern population of London
are cut off from the blessings of such a necessary--and that by means