Well, why not a porter's daughter ?' 'Because you are neither young enough, nor old enough, nor mad enough!' said Mr.Thomasson cynically, supposing the other meant nothing.
'It is she that would be mad,' the young gentleman answered, with a grim chuckle.

'I should take it out of her sooner or later.

And, after all, she is as good as Lady Macclesfield or Lady Falmouth! As good?
She is better, the saucy baggage! By the Lord, I have a good mind to do it!' Mr.Thomasson sat dumbfounded.

At length, 'You are jesting! You cannot mean it,' he said.
'If it is marriage or nothing--and, hang her, she is as cold as a church pillar--I do mean it,' the gentleman answered viciously; 'and so would you if you were not an old insensible sinner! Think of her ankle, man! Think of her waist! I never saw a waist to compare with it! Even in the Havanna! She is a pearl! She is a jewel! She is incomparable!' 'And a porter's daughter!' 'Faugh, I don't believe it.' And he took his oath on the point.
'You make me sick!' Mr.Thomasson said; and meant it.

Then, 'My dear friend, I see how it is,' he continued.