'You are fagged to death, I know, and we'll get a mouthful of fresh air before we go upstairs,'-- and so saying he put his arm through Alaric's, and they strolled off through the suburbs of the town.
'You don't smoke,' said Undy, with his cigar-case in his hand.
'Well--I believe you are right--cigars cost a great deal of money, and can't well do a man any real good.

God Almighty could never have intended us to make chimneys of our mouths and noses.
Does Fidus ever indulge in a weed ?' 'He never indulges in anything,' said Alaric.
'Except honesty,' said the other, 'and in that he is a beastly glutton.

He gorges himself with it till all his faculties are overpowered and his mind becomes torpid.

It's twice worse than drinking.

I wonder whether he'll do a bit of speculation before he goes back to town.' 'Who, Neverbend ?--he never speculates!' 'Why not?
Ah, my fine fellow, you don't know the world yet.