Job Trotter, who rose from his chair on the
instant, tore and buffeted his large flat face, with an energy
peculiar to excited females, and twining her hands in his long
black hair, tore therefrom about enough to make five or six
dozen of the very largest-sized mourning-rings. Having accomplished
this feat with all the ardour which her devoted love for
Mr. Muzzle inspired, she staggered back; and being a lady of
very excitable and delicate feelings, she instantly fell under the
dresser, and fainted away.
At this moment, the bell rang.
'That's for you, Job Trotter,' said Sam; and before Mr. Trotter
could offer remonstrance or reply--even before he had time to
stanch the wounds inflicted by the insensible lady--Sam seized
one arm and Mr. Muzzle the other, and one pulling before, and
the other pushing behind, they conveyed him upstairs, and into
the parlour.
It was an impressive tableau. Alfred Jingle, Esquire, alias
Captain Fitz-Marshall, was standing near the door with his hat
in his hand, and a smile on his face, wholly unmoved by his very
unpleasant situation. Confronting him, stood Mr. Pickwick, who
had evidently been inculcating some high moral lesson; for his
left hand was beneath his coat tail, and his right extended in air,
as was his wont when delivering himself of an impressive address.
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