No - no

　　'No - no,' growled Mr. Barkis, reflecting about it.  'I ain't got no call to  go and tell her so.  I never said six words to her myself, I ain't a-goin' to  tell her so.'

　　'Would you like me  to do it, Mr.  Barkis?' said I, doubtfully.  'You might tell her, if you would,' said Mr. Barkis, with another slow look at me, 'that  Barkis was a-waitin' for a answer.  Says you - what name is it?'

　　'Her name?'

　　'Ah!' said Mr. Barkis, with a nod of his head.

　　'Peggotty.'

　　'Chrisen name?  Or nat'ral name?' said Mr. Barkis.

　　'Oh, it's not her Christian name.  Her Christian name is Clara.'

　　'Is it though?' said Mr. Barkis.

　　He seemed to find  an immense fund of  reflection in this circumstance,  and sat pondering and inwardly whistling for some time.

　　'Well!' he resumed at  length.  'Says you, "Peggotty!   Barkis is waitin' for  a answer."  Says she, perhaps, "Answer to what?"  Says you, "To what I told  you." "What is that?" says she.  "Barkis is willin'," says you.'

　　This extremely  artful suggestion  Mr. Barkis  accompanied with  a nudge  of his elbow that gave me quite a stitch in my side.  After that, he slouched over  his horse in his usual  manner; and made no  other reference to the  subject except, half an hour afterwards,  taking a piece of  chalk from his pocket,  and writing up, inside  the tilt  of the  cart, 'Clara  Peggotty' -  apparently as a private memorandum.