“By what means shall I convince you that I'm the Nell you knew? Let me see--ah, I know. Dick, I 'll swear for you; you know well that there was not one could match me in swearing. Let me but begin.” “O Lord! not for the world. You always knew when to begin, Nell, but you ne'er knew when to stop. And how doth it come that you have n't forgot the brimstone of the Lane, Nelly, though you have become so mighty fine a lady?” “'Snails, Dick, the best way to remember a language is to keep constantly talking it!” “But in silks and satins?” “Oh, I soon found that I only needed to double the intensity of my language in the Lane in order to talk the mother tongue of fashion.” “If swearing make the fine lady, you'll be the leader of the town, Nell, I'll warrant. But do n't say that you doubled your language--that would be impossible.” “Oh, would it, indeed?” “Not so? Then for God's sake do n't give me a sample of what you reached in that way, for I 've only lived among the pirates and buccaneers of the Indies since.” “Then I'll e'en spare thee, Dick. But take warning: do n't provoke me. You would n't provoke a pirate whose guns you knew to be double-shotted. Do n't say that I'm not Nell Gwyn for all my silks and lace. Why, man, doth oatmeal porridge cease to be porridge because it's served in a silver platter? Did your salt pork turn to venison when you ate it off the gold plate that you stole from the chapels?” “Lord, Nell, I was n't a pirate.” “What! Did n't you say just now that you had been among pirates and buccaneers in the Indies?” “I was among them, but not of them.” “You mean to say that you were neither a pirate nor a buccaneer?” “Neither!” “Then all I can say is that I'm mightily ashamed of you, Dick. I counted on your being at least a pirate. Don't say that you became a merchant; I never could abide dishonesty, Dick.” “Well, no; I never became just a merchant, Nell--at least, not the sort of merchant that merchants would call a merchant.” “Oh, then, there's some hope for you yet, Dick. We may be friends still.” “Friends? Well, I should say so! What did I work for, do you think, through all these years? What did I lay up a store of guineas for--guineas and Spanish doubloons and pieces of eight for----” “And you have made a fortune, Dick? Think of that! Ah, I fear that you must have been a regular merchant after all; only regular merchants make fortunes in these days.” “Ay, but some irregular ones do pretty fairly for themselves.” “And you were somewhat irregular, I dare swear?” “Well, I wasn't regularly irregular, dear, only by fits and starts. Ah, what I said to myself was: 'I've put the stockings on Nell, but I've to get the shoes for her yet.' That's what gave me the strength of ten men--working for those shoes, Nell.” “Poor Dick! and now when you come home, you find that I am already provided for.” Again she showed him the dainty tips of her shoes. “Those are fair weather shoes, Nell,” he cried.