“Ah, Mr. Lowten,” replied that gentleman, looking round, and recognising his old acquaintance.

“Precious warm walking, isn’t it?” said Lowten, drawing a Bramah key from his pocket, with a small plug therein, to keep the dust out.

“You appear to feel it so,” rejoined Mr. Pickwick, smiling at the clerk, who was literally red-hot.

“I’ve come along, rather, I can tell you,” replied Lowten. “It went the half hour as I came through the Polygon. I’m here before him, though, so I don’t mind.”