“My friend, my benefactor, my honoured companion,” murmured Mr. Winkle, catching at his wrist. “Do not judge me harshly; do not, when you hear that, driven to extremity by hopeless obstacles, I⁠—”

“Now then,” said Mr. Tupman, reappearing at the door. “Are you coming, or are we to be locked in?”

“Yes, yes, I am ready,” replied Mr. Winkle. And with a violent effort he tore himself away.

As Mr. Pickwick was gazing down the passage after them in silent astonishment, Sam Weller appeared at the stairhead, and whispered for one moment in Mr. Winkle’s ear.