The String of Pearls (1850), p. 176

"I wonder if I can gammon her out of a couple of guineas."
Yes, reader this compound of vulgarity, ignorance, impudence and debauchery was Mrs Lovett's gentle fancy—her taste—her—her, what shall we say?—her
personification of all that a man should be. Do not start; Mrs. Lovett has many imitators, for, without libelling the fairer, better, and more gentle of that sex, who can be such angels as well as such—a-hem!—there are thousands who
would be quite smitten with the "swaggering companion." When he reached the shop-window, he placed his nose against it for a moment to reconnoitre who
was in the shop, and seeing the fair one alone, he at once crossed the threshold.
"Ah, charmer, how do the fates get on with you?"
"Sir—"
A smile upon the face of Mrs. Lovett was a practical contradiction to the rebuff which her reception of him by words of mouth seemed to carry.
"Oh, you bewitching—a—a—"
The remainder of the sentence was lost in the devouring a pie, which the "swaggering companion took from the shop counter.
"Really, sir," said Mrs. Lovett—"I wish you would not come here, I am all alone and"—
"Alone? You beautiful female. Oh you nice creature.—Allow me."
The "swaggering companion" lifted up that portion of the counter which enabled Mrs. Lovett to pass from one side of it to the other, and as coolly as possible walked into the parlour. Mrs. Lovett followed him, protesting at what she
called his impudence. But for all that, a bottle of spirits and some biscuits were procured. The "swaggering companion," however, pushed the biscuits
aside, saying—
"Pies for me. Pies for me."
Mrs. Lovett looked at him scrutinisingly as she said—
"And do you really like the pies, or do you only eat them out of compliment to me?"
"Really like them? I tell you what it is; out of compliment to you, of course, I could eat anything, but the pies are delicacies.—Where do you get your veal?"
"Well, if you will have pies you shall, Major Bounce."—That was the name which the "swaggering companion'' appended to his disgusting corporealty.
"Certainly, my dear, certainly. As I was saying, I could freely, to compliment you, eat old Tomkins, the tailor, of Fleet Street."
"Really. How do you think he would taste?"
"Tough!"
"Ha! Ha!"
It was an odd laugh that of Mrs. Lovett's. Had she borrowed it from Todd?
"My dear Mrs. L.," said the major, "what made you laugh in that sort of way? Ah, if I could only persuade you to go from L to B."
"Sir?"
"Now, my charmer, seriously speaking:—Here am I, Major Bounce, a gentleman with immense expectations, ready and willing to wed the most charming woman under the sun, if she will only say "yes."
"Have you any objection to America??"
"America? None in the least.—With you for a companion, America would be a Paradise. A regular garden of, what do you call it, my dear? Only say the word, my darling.''
The major's arm was gently insinuated round the lady's waist, and after a few moments she spoke.
"Major Bounce, I—I have made money."
"The devil!—so have I, but the police one day—a-hem!—a-hem!—what a cough I have."
"What on earth do you mean?"
"Oh, nothing—nothing—only a joke. You said you had made money, and