"No," said Mrs. Gamp, with a third significant signal.
"Especially," pursued the Barber, "when the gentleman bears such a character as you gave him."
"I speak as I find, Mr. Sweedlepipes," said Mrs. Gamp. "Forbid it should be otherways! But we never knows wot's hidden in each others hearts; and if we had glass winders there, we'd need to keep the shetters up, some on us, I do assure you!"
"But you don't mean to say"—Poll Sweedlepipe began.
"No," said Mrs. Gamp, cutting him very short, "I don't. Don't think I do. The torters of the Imposition shouldn't make me own I did. All I says is," added the good woman rising and folding her shawl about her, "that the Bull's a waitin, and the precious moments is a flyin' fast."
The little barber having in his eager curiosity a great desire to see Mrs. Gamp's patient, proposed to Mr. Bailey that they should accompany her to the Bull, and witness the departure of the coach. That young gentleman assenting, they all went out together.
Arriving at the tavern, Mrs. Gamp (who was full-dressed for the journey, in her latest suit of mourning) left her friends to entertain themselves in the yard, while she ascended to the sick room, where her fellow-labourer Mrs. Prig was dressing the invalid.
He was so wasted, that it seemed as if his bones would rattle when they moved him. His cheeks were sunken, and his eyes unnaturally large. He lay back in the easy chair like one more dead than living; and rolled his languid eyes towards the door when Mrs. Gamp appeared, as painfully as if their weight alone were burdensome to move.
"And how are we by this time?" Mrs. Gamp observed. "We looks charming."
"We looks a deal charminger than we are, then," returned Mrs. Prig, a little chafed in her temper. "We got out of bed back'ards, I think, for we're as cross as two sticks. I never see sich a man. He wouldn't have been washed, if he'd had his own way."
"She put the soap in my mouth," said the unfortunate patient, feebly.
"Couldn't you keep it shut then?" retorted Mrs. Prig. "Who do you think's to wash one feater, and miss another, and wear one's eyes out with all manner of fine-work of that description, for half-a-crown a day If you wants to be tittivated, you must pay accordin."
"Oh dear me!" cried the patient, "oh dear, dear!"
"There!" said Mrs. Prig, "that's the way he's been a conducting of himself, Sarah, ever since I got him out of bed, if you 'll believe it."
"Instead of being grateful," Mrs. Gamp observed, "for all our little ways. Oh, fie for shame, sir, fie for shame!"
Here Mrs. Prig seized the patient by the chin, and began to rasp his unhappy head with a hair-brush.
"I suppose you don't like that, neither!" she observed, stopping to look at him.
It was just possible that he didn't, for the brush was a specimen of the hardest kind of instrument producible by modern art; and his very eye-lids were red with the friction. Mrs. Prig was gratified to observe
