There's a fine nest of Mr.
Weekes's friend (if not creation), Acarus Horridus," and Tom went on dusting and arranging.
Heale had been fairly taken aback by the imposing list of acquirements, and looked at his guest awhile with considerable awe: suddenly a suspicion flashed across him, which caused him (not unseen by Tom) a start and a look of self-congratulatory wisdom.

He next darted out of the shop, and returned as rapidly, rather redder about the eyes, and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"But, sir, though, though"-- began he--"but, of course you will allow me, being a stranger--and as a man of business--all I have to say is, if--that is to say--" "You want to know why, if I've had all these good businesses, why I haven't kept them ?" "Ex--actly," stammered Heale much relieved.
"A very sensible and business-like question: but you needn't have been so delicate about asking it as to want a screw before beginning." "Ah, you're a wag, sir," keckled the old man, "I'll tell you frankly; I have an old father, sir,--a gentleman, and a scholar, and a man of science; once in as good a country practice as man could have, till, God help him, he went blind, sir--and I had to keep him, and have still.

I went over the world to make my fortune and never made it; and sent him home what I did make, and little enough too.

At last, in my despair, I went to the diggings, and had a pretty haul--I needn't say how much.

That matters little now; for I suppose it's at the bottom of the sea.