“You air, air you, sir?” inquired Mr. Weller firmly. “Wery good, Sir; then so am I.”

Thus speaking, Mr. Weller fixed his hat on his head with great precision, and abruptly left the room.

“Sam!” cried Mr. Pickwick, calling after him, “Sam! Here!”

But the long gallery ceased to reecho the sound of footsteps. Sam Weller was gone.