of Mr Raddle in the kitchen. 'Yes, of course you did! And everybody

knows that they may safely insult me in my own 'ouse while my

husband sits sleeping downstairs, and taking no more notice than if I

was a dog in the streets. He ought to be ashamed of himself (here Mrs.

Raddle sobbed) to allow his wife to be treated in this way by a parcel

of young cutters and carvers of live people's bodies, that disgraces the

lodgings (another sob), and leaving her exposed to all manner of

abuse; a base, faint- hearted, timorous wretch, that's afraid to come

upstairs, and face the ruffinly creatures - that's afraid - that's afraid

to come!' Mrs. Raddle paused to listen whether the repetition of the

taunt had roused her better half; and finding that it had not been

successful, proceeded to descend the stairs with sobs innumerable;

when there came a loud double knock at the street door; whereupon

she burst into an hysterical fit of weeping, accompanied with dismal

moans, which was prolonged until the knock had been repeated six

times, when, in an uncontrollable burst of mental agony, she threw

down all the umbrellas, and disappeared into the back parlour,

closing the door after her with an awful crash.

'Does Mr Sawyer live here?' said Mr Pickwick, when the door was

opened.

'Yes,' said the girl, 'first floor. It's the door straight afore you, when

you gets to the top of the stairs.' Having given this instruction, the

handmaid, who had been brought up among the aboriginal

inhabitants of Southwark, disappeared, with the candle in her hand,

down the kitchen stairs, perfectly satisfied that she had done

everything that could possibly be required of her under the

circumstances.

Mr Snodgrass, who entered last, secured the street door, after several

ineffectual efforts, by putting up the chain; and the friends stumbled

upstairs, where they were received by Mr Bob Sawyer, who had been

afraid to go down, lest he should be waylaid by Mrs. Raddle.

How are you?' said the discomfited student. 'Glad to see you - take

care of the glasses.' This caution was addressed to Mr Pickwick, who

had put his hat in the tray.

'Dear me,' said Mr Pickwick, 'I beg your pardon.'

'Don't mention it, don't mention it,' said Bob Sawyer. 'I'm rather

confined for room here, but you must put up with all that, when you

come to see a young bachelor. Walk in. You've seen this gentleman

before, I think?' Mr Pickwick shook hands with Mr Benjamin Allen,

and his friends followed his example. They had scarcely taken their

seats when there was another double knock.

The Pickwick Papers