Slouching nearer, and perceiving the Dean, he pulls off his hat, and is slouching away with it under his arm, when Mr.Sapsea stops him.
'Mind you take care of my friend,' is the injunction Mr.Sapsea lays upon him.
'What friend o' yourn is dead ?' asks Durdles.

'No orders has come in for any friend o' yourn.' 'I mean my live friend there.' 'O! him ?' says Durdles.

'He can take care of himself, can Mister Jarsper.' 'But do you take care of him too,' says Sapsea.
Whom Durdles (there being command in his tone) surlily surveys from head to foot.
'With submission to his Reverence the Dean, if you'll mind what concerns you, Mr.Sapsea, Durdles he'll mind what concerns him.' 'You're out of temper,' says Mr.Sapsea, winking to the company to observe how smoothly he will manage him.

'My friend concerns me, and Mr.
Jasper is my friend.

And you are my friend.' 'Don't you get into a bad habit of boasting,' retorts Durdles, with a grave cautionary nod.