He read the letter to the last word, folded it again with all the carefulness and precision of a man of business, and, just when Mr. Pickwick expected some great outbreak of feeling, dipped a pen in the inkstand, and said, as quietly as if he were speaking on the most ordinary countinghouse topic⁠—

“What is Nathaniel’s address, Mr. Pickwick?”

“The George and Vulture, at present,” replied that gentleman.

“George and Vulture. Where is that?”

“George Yard, Lombard Street.”

“In the city?”

“Yes.”