“Certainly not,” chimed in Mrs. Sanders, who, from certain wistful glances at the little tin saucepan, seemed to be engaged in a mental calculation of the probable extent of the pettitoes, in the event of Sam’s being asked to stop to supper.

“So all I’ve come about, is jest this here,” said Sam, disregarding the interruption; “first, to give my governor’s notice⁠—there it is. Secondly, to pay the rent⁠—here it is. Thirdly, to say as all his things is to be put together, and give to anybody as we sends for ’em. Fourthly, that you may let the place as soon as you like⁠—and that’s all.”

“Whatever has happened,” said Mrs. Bardell, “I always have said, and always will say, that in every respect but one, Mr. Pickwick has always behaved himself like a perfect gentleman. His money always as good as the bank⁠—always.”