Master, he ain't one to be crossed for money.

What he wants, he'll have, that is if it be in the orchid line." "I suppose you are fond of orchids, too, Mr.Woodden ?" "Fond of them, sir?
Why, I loves 'em!" (Here he rocked.) "Don't feel for nothing else in the same way; not even for my old woman" (then with a burst of enthusiasm) "no, not even for the master himself, and I'm fond enough of him, God knows! But, begging your pardon, sir" (with a pull at his forelock), "would you mind holding that tin of yours a little tighter?
I've got to keep an eye on that as well as on 'O.

Paving,' and I just see'd that chap with the tall hat alooking at it suspicious." After this we separated.

I retired into my corner, while Woodden took his stand by the table, with one eye fixed on what he called the "O.
Paving" and the other on me and my tin case.
An odd fish truly, I thought to myself.

Positive, the old woman; Comparative, his master; Superlative, the orchid tribe.