I ain't,' said the fat boy, falling on his knees as his master seized him

by the collar. 'I ain't drunk.'

Then you're mad; that's worse. Call the waiters,' said the old

gentleman.

I ain't mad; I'm sensible,' rejoined the fat boy, beginning to cry.

Then, what the devil did you run sharp instruments into Mr

Pickwick's legs for?' inquired Wardle angrily.

He wouldn't look at me,' replied the boy. 'I wanted to speak to him.'

What did you want to say?' asked half a dozen voices at once.

The fat boy gasped, looked at the bedroom door, gasped again, and

wiped two tears away with the knuckle of each of his forefingers.

'What did you want to say?' demanded Wardle, shaking him.

Stop!' said Mr Pickwick; 'allow me. What did you wish to

communicate to me, my poor boy?'

I want to whisper to you,' replied the fat boy.

You want to bite his ear off, I suppose,' said Wardle. 'Don't come near

him; he's vicious; ring the bell, and let him be taken downstairs.'

Just as Mr Winkle caught the bell-rope in his hand, it was arrested by

a general expression of astonishment; the captive lover, his face

burning with confusion, suddenly walked in from the bedroom, and

made a comprehensive bow to the company.

Hollo!' cried Wardle, releasing the fat boy's collar, and staggering

back. 'What's this?'

'I have been concealed in the next room, sir, since you returned,'

explained Mr Snodgrass.

Emily, my girl,' said Wardle reproachfully, 'I detest meanness and

deceit; this is unjustifiable and indelicate in the highest degree. I don't

deserve this at your hands, Emily, indeed!'

Dear papa,' said Emily, 'Arabella knows - everybody here knows - Joe

knows - that I was no party to this concealment. Augustus, for

Heaven's sake, explain it!'

The Pickwick Papers