“Nothing the matter,” replied Mr. Pickwick. “We⁠—we’re⁠—all right.⁠—I say, Wardle, we’re all right, ain’t we?”

“I should think so,” replied the jolly host.⁠—“My dears, here’s my friend Mr. Jingle⁠— Mr. Pickwick’s friend, Mr. Jingle, come ’pon⁠—little visit.”

“Is anything the matter with Mr. Snodgrass, Sir?” inquired Emily, with great anxiety.

“Nothing the matter, ma’am,” replied the stranger. “Cricket dinner⁠—glorious party⁠—capital songs⁠—old port⁠—claret⁠—good⁠—very good⁠—wine, ma’am⁠—wine.”