On this request being preferred, the corpulent man condescended to

order the boots to bring in the gentlemen's luggage; and preceding

them down a long, dark passage, ushered them into a large, badly-

furnished apartment, with a dirty grate, in which a small fire was

making a wretched attempt to be cheerful, but was fast sinking

beneath the dispiriting influence of the place. After the lapse of an

hour, a bit of fish and a steak was served up to the travellers, and

when the dinner was cleared away, Mr Pickwick and Mr Peter Magnus

drew their chairs up to the fire, and having ordered a bottle of the

worst possible port wine, at the highest possible price, for the good of

the house, drank brandy-and-water for their own.

Mr Peter Magnus was naturally of a very communicative disposition,

and the brandy-and-water operated with wonderful effect in warming

into life the deepest hidden secrets of his bosom. After sundry

accounts of himself, his family, his connections, his friends, his jokes,

his business, and his brothers (most talkative men have a great deal

to say about their brothers), Mr Peter Magnus took a view of Mr

Pickwick through his coloured spectacles for several minutes, and

then said, with an air of modesty -

And what do you think - what DO you think, Mr Pickwick - I have

come down here for?'

Upon my word,' said Mr Pickwick, 'it is wholly impossible for me to

guess; on business, perhaps.'

Partly right, Sir,' replied Mr Peter Magnus, 'but partly wrong at the

same time; try again, Mr Pickwick.'

'Really,' said Mr Pickwick, 'I must throw myself on your mercy, to tell

me or not, as you may think best; for I should never guess, if I were to

try all night.'

Why, then, he-he-he!' said Mr Peter Magnus, with a bashful titter,

what should you think, Mr Pickwick, if I had come down here to make

a proposal, Sir, eh? He, he, he!'

'Think! That you are very likely to succeed,' replied Mr Pickwick, with

one of his beaming smiles. 'Ah!' said Mr Magnus. 'But do you really

think so, Mr Pickwick? Do you, though?'

'Certainly,' said Mr Pickwick.

'No; but you're joking, though.'

'I am not, indeed.'

The Pickwick Papers