'I like to be crowded by gals.
Come a little closer, cousin.' 'No, thank you, sir,' said Charity.
'There's that other one a-laughing again,' said Mr Jonas; 'she's a-laughing at my father, I shouldn't wonder.

If he puts on that old flannel nightcap of his, I don't know what she'll do! Is that my father a-snoring, Pecksniff ?' 'Yes, Mr Jonas.' 'Tread upon his foot, will you be so good ?' said the young gentleman.
'The foot next you's the gouty one.' Mr Pecksniff hesitating to perform this friendly office, Mr Jonas did it himself; at the same time crying: 'Come, wake up, father, or you'll be having the nightmare, and screeching out, I know .-- Do you ever have the nightmare, cousin ?' he asked his neighbour, with characteristic gallantry, as he dropped his voice again.
'Sometimes,' answered Charity.

'Not often.' 'The other one,' said Mr Jonas, after a pause.

'Does SHE ever have the nightmare ?' 'I don't know,' replied Charity.

'You had better ask her.' 'She laughs so,' said Jonas; 'there's no talking to her.