As Mr. Jarndyce sat enjoying the image of his friend Boythorn, we observed the favourable omen that there was not the least indication of any change in the wind.
"But it's the inside of the man, the warm heart of the man, the passion of the man, the fresh blood of the man, Rick--and Ada, and little Cobweb too, for you are all interested in a visitor--that I speak of," he pursued. "His language is as sounding as his voice. He is always in extremes, perpetually in the superlative degree. In his condemnation he is all ferocity. You might suppose him to be an ogre from what he says, and I believe he has the reputation of one with some people. There! I tell you no more of him beforehand. You must not be surprised to see him take me under his protection, for he has never forgotten that I was a low boy at school and that our friendship began in his knocking two of my head tyrant's teeth out (he says six) before breakfast. Boythorn and his man," to me, "will be here this afternoon, my dear."

As Mr. Jarndyce talked, we observed the favourable omen that there was not the least sign of any change in the wind.
"But it's the warm heart of the man, the passion of the man, that I speak of," he pursued. "He is always in extremes. In his condemnation he is all ferocity, so that you might suppose him to be an ogre. There! I'll tell you no more beforehand. You must not be surprised to see him take me under his protection, for he has never forgotten that at school our friendship began in his knocking two of my head tyrant's teeth out."
