Possibly the nuts were the true source of Ammonia's dislike.
Nickie the Kid had been three days figuring as the star of Professor Thunder's Museum of Marvels, and was growing accustomed to his suit, and to the situation.

The Professor himself was a born vagabond, and his wife, Madame Marve, the somewhat plump prophetess, who read fortunes, and was mistress of the educated pig, had the Gipsy instinct and took life easily.

Nickie had a good deal in common with both, and they promised to be a happy family.
In his proudest moments Professor Thunder was not likely to overestimate the intrinsic value of the Missing Link as he stood, for tucked away under the singlet that lay between him and his hairy simian cuticle was a store of treasure with the product of which Nicholas Crips dreamed of living a life of ease and luxury when certain matters had blown over and it was wise for him to resume his proper place in the animal creation.
The murder in Briggs's Building had stirred up a tremendous sensation, but as yet no one had thought of associating either the Rev.Andrew Rowbottom or the tall, fashionably-dressed lady with the crime.
The show was not yet open for the evening, and Mahdi, the Missing Link, was permitted the privilege of free speech, denial of which was one of the most painful disadvantages of his public career.
"Well, how're yeh likin' th' grip, Nickie ?" asked Matty Cann, otherwise Bonypart the living skeleton.
"It is not exacting." said the Missing Link, dreamily, "but it has its drawbacks to a man accustomed to finding favour with the ladies." "Drawbacks," exclaimed Bonypart.

"What price living skelingtons?
You wouldn't believe it, but I'm considered rather a fine man in flesh.

It almost breaks my poor wife's 'eart t' see me in such redooced circumstances.