'I'm glad to hear it, but I don't remember when.

Are you sure it was me ?' 'Quite.' 'I think my memory has got as short as my breath,' said Mr.Omer, looking at me and shaking his head; 'for I don't remember you.' 'Don't you remember your coming to the coach to meet me, and my having breakfast here, and our riding out to Blunderstone together: you, and I, and Mrs.Joram, and Mr.Joram too--who wasn't her husband then ?' 'Why, Lord bless my soul!' exclaimed Mr.Omer, after being thrown by his surprise into a fit of coughing, 'you don't say so! Minnie, my dear, you recollect?
Dear me, yes; the party was a lady, I think ?' 'My mother,' I rejoined.
'To--be--sure,' said Mr.Omer, touching my waistcoat with his forefinger, 'and there was a little child too! There was two parties.
The little party was laid along with the other party.

Over at Blunderstone it was, of course.

Dear me! And how have you been since ?' Very well, I thanked him, as I hoped he had been too.
'Oh! nothing to grumble at, you know,' said Mr.Omer.

'I find my breath gets short, but it seldom gets longer as a man gets older.