"Alas, how the wicked prosper--and you were wicked.

Do you remember how you used to knock me about ?" "Come round to my place and have a chat," said Hardy.
Jack shook his head.

"They're expecting me in to tea," he said, with a nod in the direction of Mr.Kybird's, "and honest waterside labourers who earn their bread by the sweat of their brow--when the foreman is looking -- do not frequent the society of the upper classes." "Don't be a fool," said Hardy, politely.
"Well, I'm not very tidy," retorted Mr.Nugent, glancing at his clothes.
"I don't mind it myself; I'm a philosopher, and nothing hurts me so long as I have enough to eat and drink; but I don't inflict myself on my friends, and I must say most of them meet me more than half-way." "Imagination," said Hardy.
"All except Kate and my aunt," said Jack, firmly.

"Poor Kate; I tried to cut her the other day." "Cut her ?" echoed Hardy.
Nugent nodded.

"To save her feelings," he replied; "but she wouldn't be cut, bless her, and on the distinct understanding that it wasn't to form a precedent, I let her kiss me behind a waggon.