'It is but manner.' 'It is a demd uncomfortable, private-madhouse-sort of a manner,' said Mr Mantalini, picking up his cane.
Ralph affected to smile, and once more inquired from whom Mr Mantalini had derived his information.
'From Pyke; and a demd, fine, pleasant, gentlemanly dog it is,' replied Mantalini.

'Demnition pleasant, and a tip-top sawyer.' 'And what said he ?' asked Ralph, knitting his brows.
'That it happened this way--that your nephew met him at a coffeehouse, fell upon him with the most demneble ferocity, followed him to his cab, swore he would ride home with him, if he rode upon the horse's back or hooked himself on to the horse's tail; smashed his countenance, which is a demd fine countenance in its natural state; frightened the horse, pitched out Sir Mulberry and himself, and--' 'And was killed ?' interposed Ralph with gleaming eyes.

'Was he?
Is he dead ?' Mantalini shook his head.
'Ugh,' said Ralph, turning away.

'Then he has done nothing.

Stay,' he added, looking round again.