"And pray who the devil ARE you ?" "My name's Billings." "Billings ?" said the Count.
"I come out of Warwickshire," said Mr.Billings.
"Indeed!" "I was born at Birmingham town." "Were you, really!" "My mother's name was Hayes," continued Billings, in a solemn voice.

"I was put out to a nurse along with John Billings, a blacksmith; and my father run away.

NOW do you know who I am ?" "Why, upon honour, now," said the Count, who was amused,--"upon honour, Mr.Billings, I have not that advantage." "Well, then, my Lord, YOU'RE MY FATHER!" Mr.Billings when he said this came forward to the Count with a theatrical air; and, flinging down the breeches of which he was the bearer, held out his arms and stared, having very little doubt but that his Lordship would forthwith spring out of bed and hug him to his heart.
A similar piece of naivete many fathers of families have, I have no doubt, remarked in their children; who, not caring for their parents a single doit, conceive, nevertheless, that the latter are bound to show all sorts of affection for them.

His lordship did move, but backwards towards the wall, and began pulling at the bell-rope with an expression of the most intense alarm.
"Keep back, sirrah!--keep back! Suppose I AM your father, do you want to murder me?
Good heavens! how the boy smells of gin and tobacco! Don't turn away, my lad; sit down there at a proper distance.

And, La Rose, give him some eau-de-Cologne, and get a cup of coffee.