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Updated: May 23, 2025
It's of no use cross-examining my eyes, cried Sampson, winking and rubbing them, 'they stick to their first account, and will. Now, Sarah, I hear the coach in the Marks; get on your bonnet, and we'll be off. A sad errand! a moral funeral, quite! 'Mr Brass, said Kit. 'Do me one favour. Take me to Mr Witherden's first. Sampson shook his head irresolutely. 'Do, said Kit. 'My master's there.
The morals of the Marks you know, sir "when lovely women stoops to folly" and all that eh, Mr Richard? 'Another young man, who belongs to Witherden's too, or half belongs there, returned Richard. 'Kit, they call him. 'Kit, eh! said Brass. 'Strange name name of a dancing-master's fiddle, eh, Mr Richard? Ha ha! Kit's there, is he? Oh!
Mr Witherden consenting, they walked into that gentleman's private closet, and remained there, in close conversation, for some quarter of an hour, when they returned into the outer office. The stranger had left his hat in Mr Witherden's room, and seemed to have established himself in this short interval on quite a friendly footing.
Your friend's the young man from Witherden's office I think yes May we ne'er want a Nobody else at all, been, Mr Richard? 'Only somebody to the lodger, replied Mr Swiveller. 'Oh indeed! cried Brass. 'Somebody to the lodger eh? Ha ha! May we ne'er want a friend, or a Somebody to the lodger, eh, Mr Richard?
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