"Three," says Mercury.
"Are you so much? But then, you see, you're broad in proportion and don't look it. You're not one of the weak-legged ones, you ain't. Was you ever modelled now?" Mr. Bucket asks, conveying the expression of an artist into the turn of his eye and head.
Mercury never was modelled.
"Then you ought to be, you know," says Mr. Bucket; "and a friend of mine that you'll hear of one day as a Royal Academy sculptor would stand something handsome to make a drawing of your proportions for the marble. My Lady's out, ain't she?"
"Out to dinner."

"Three," says the footman.
"Are you so much? But then, you see, you're broad in proportion and don't look it. A Royal Academy sculptor would pay something handsome to make a drawing of your proportions for the marble. My Lady's out, ain't she?"
"Out to dinner."
