'
"'And pray, sir,' asked Pigeon, with a face of crimson, 'pray,
sir, what accident may have drawn the ring off again?'
"'You see, sir,' said George Tomata, arranging his hair by an
opposite mirror, 'my prospects lay in India--in India, sir. Now
Lotty--'
"'Who, sir?' exclaimed Pigeon, wrathfully.
"'Charlotte,' answered Tomata. 'I used to call her Lotty, and
she--he! he!--she used to call me 'Love-apple.' You may judge how
far we were both gone. For when a woman begins to play tricks with
a man's name you may be sure she begins to look upon it as her
future property.'
"'You are always right, sir, no doubt,' observed Pigeon, 'but you
were about to state the particular hindrance to your marriage
with'----
"'To be sure, Lotty--as I was going to observe, was a nice little
sugar-plum, a very nice little sugar-plum--as you will doubtless
allow.'
"It was with much difficulty that Pigeon possessed himself of
sufficient coolness to admit the familiar truth of the simile; he
however admitted the wife of his bosom to be a nice little
sugar-plum.
"'Very nice indeed, but I saw it--I felt convinced of it, and the
truth went like twenty daggers to my soul--but I discovered--'
"'Good heavens,' exclaimed Pigeon, 'discovered what?'
"'That her complexion,' replied Tomata, 'beautiful as it was would
not stand Trincomalee.
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