"No," replied the other, "from your son"; at which Osborne fell back into the corner of his carriage, and Dobbin allowing it to pass on, rode close behind it, and so through the town until they reached Mr. Osborne's hotel, and without a word. There he followed Osborne up to his apartments. George had often been in the rooms; they were the lodgings which the Crawleys had occupied during their stay in Brussels.
"Pray, have you any commands for me, Captain Dobbin, or, I beg your pardon, I should say MAJOR Dobbin, since better men than you are dead, and you step into their SHOES?" said Mr. Osborne, in that sarcastic tone which he sometimes was pleased to assume.
"Better men ARE dead," Dobbin replied. "I want to speak to you about one."
"Make it short, sir," said the other with an oath, scowling at his visitor.

"No, from your son." At this Osborne fell back into the corner of his carriage, and Dobbin rode close behind it through the town until they reached Mr. Osborne's hotel. There he followed Osborne up to his apartments.
"Pray, have you any commands for me, Captain Dobbin, or, I beg your pardon, MAJOR Dobbin, since better men than you are dead, and you step into their shoes?" said Mr. Osborne, in a sarcastic tone.
"Better men are dead," Dobbin replied. "I want to speak to you about one."
"Make it short, sir," said the other with an oath, scowling.
