However, without waiting to debate the point, Sam at once betook himself into the presence of Mr. Pickwick, and requested leave of absence for that evening, which was readily granted. With this permission and the street-door key, Sam Weller issued forth a little before the appointed time, and strolled leisurely towards Queen Square, which he no sooner gained than he had the satisfaction of beholding Mr. John Smauker leaning his powdered head against a lamppost at a short distance off, smoking a cigar through an amber tube.

“How do you do, Mr. Weller?” said Mr. John Smauker, raising his hat gracefully with one hand, while he gently waved the other in a condescending manner. “How do you do, Sir?”