Give me your other hand, Mrs Todgers.' The lady hesitated, and said 'she didn't like.' 'Has a voice from the grave no influence ?' said Mr Pecksniff, with, dismal tenderness.

'This is irreligious! My dear creature.' 'Hush!' urged Mrs Todgers.

'Really you mustn't.' 'It's not me,' said Mr Pecksniff.

'Don't suppose it's me; it's the voice; it's her voice.' Mrs Pecksniff deceased, must have had an unusually thick and husky voice for a lady, and rather a stuttering voice, and to say the truth somewhat of a drunken voice, if it had ever borne much resemblance to that in which Mr Pecksniff spoke just then.

But perhaps this was delusion on his part.
'It has been a day of enjoyment, Mrs Todgers, but still it has been a day of torture.