Mr. Samuel Weller looked at the little lawyer, then at Mr. Pickwick, then at the ceiling, then at Perker again; grinned, laughed outright, and finally, catching up his hat from the carpet, without further explanation, disappeared.

“What does this mean?” inquired Mr. Pickwick, looking at Perker with astonishment. “What has put Sam into this extraordinary state?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” replied Perker. “Come, my dear Sir, draw up your chair to the table. I have a good deal to say to you.”

“What papers are those?” inquired Mr. Pickwick, as the little man deposited on the table a small bundle of documents tied with red tape.

“The papers in Bardell and Pickwick,” replied Perker, undoing the knot with his teeth.