'However,' said Mrs Nickleby, drying her tears, 'this has nothing to
do--certainly nothing whatever to do--with the gentleman in the next
house.'
'I should suppose that the gentleman in the next house has as little to
do with us,' returned Nicholas.
'There can be no doubt,' said Mrs Nickleby, 'that he IS a gentleman,
and has the manners of a gentleman, and the appearance of a gentleman,
although he does wear smalls and grey worsted stockings. That may
be eccentricity, or he may be proud of his legs. I don't see why he
shouldn't be. The Prince Regent was proud of his legs, and so was Daniel
Lambert, who was also a fat man; HE was proud of his legs. So was Miss
Biffin: she was--no,' added Mrs Nickleby, correcting, herself, 'I think
she had only toes, but the principle is the same.'
Nicholas looked on, quite amazed at the introduction of this new theme.
Which seemed just what Mrs Nickleby had expected him to be.
'You may well be surprised, Nicholas, my dear,' she said, 'I am sure I
was. It came upon me like a flash of fire, and almost froze my blood.
The bottom of his garden joins the bottom of ours, and of course I had
several times seen him sitting among the scarlet-beans in his little
arbour, or working at his little hot-beds.
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