“Where’s Mr. Jingle, then?” He didn’t know. Everybody looked surprised. It was late⁠—past eleven o’clock. Mr. Tupman laughed in his sleeve. They were loitering somewhere, talking about him. Ha, ha! capital notion that⁠—funny.

“Never mind,” said Wardle, after a short pause. “They’ll turn up presently, I dare say. I never wait supper for anybody.”

“Excellent rule, that,” said Mr. Pickwick⁠—“admirable.”

“Pray, sit down,” said the host.

“Certainly” said Mr. Pickwick; and down they sat.