Georgy went into the reception-room and saw two strangers, whom he looked at with his head up, in his usual haughty manner. One was fat, with mustachios, and the other was lean and long, in a blue frock-coat, with a brown face and a grizzled head.
"My God, how like he is!" said the long gentleman with a start. "Can you guess who we are, George?"
The boy's face flushed up, as it did usually when he was moved, and his eyes brightened. "I don't know the other," he said, "but I should think you must be Major Dobbin."
Indeed it was our old friend. His voice trembled with pleasure as he greeted the boy, and taking both the other's hands in his own, drew the lad to him.
"Your mother has talked to you about me — has she?" he said.
"That she has," Georgy answered, "hundreds and hundreds of times."
