“Sir,” said Mr. Ben Allen, staring at the old gentleman, out of a pair of very dim and languid eyes, and working his right arm vehemently up and down, “you⁠—you ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

“As the lady’s brother, of course you are an excellent judge of the question,” retorted Mr. Winkle, senior. “There; that’s enough. Pray say no more, Mr. Pickwick. Good night, gentlemen!”

With these words the old gentleman took up the candlestick and opening the room door, politely motioned towards the passage.

“You will regret this, Sir,” said Mr. Pickwick, setting his teeth close together to keep down his choler; for he felt how important the effect might prove to his young friend.