'You see, Mr Nickleby,' said his wife, 'that it was in consequence of her being here, that John wrote to you and fixed tonight, because we thought that it wouldn't be pleasant for you to meet, after what has passed.'
'Unquestionably. You were quite right in that,' said Nicholas, interrupting.
'Especially,' observed Mrs Browdie, looking very sly, 'after what we know about past and gone love matters.'
'We know, indeed!' said Nicholas, shaking his head. 'You behaved rather wickedly there, I suspect.'
'O' course she did,' said John Browdie, passing his huge forefinger through one of his wife's pretty ringlets, and looking very proud of her. 'She wur always as skittish and full o' tricks as a—'
'Well, as a what?' said his wife.
'As a woman,' returned John. 'Ding! But I dinnot know ought e
