Pickwick gladly
assented to the proposition, and consigned the money to Mr.
Mivins, who, as it was nearly eleven o'clock, lost no time in
repairing to the coffee-room on his errand.
'I say,' whispered Smangle, the moment his friend had left the
room; 'what did you give him?'
'Half a sovereign,' said Mr. Pickwick.
'He's a devilish pleasant gentlemanly dog,' said Mr. Smangle;--
'infernal pleasant. I don't know anybody more so; but--'
Here Mr. Smangle stopped short, and shook his head dubiously.
'You don't think there is any probability of his appropriating
the money to his own use?' said Mr. Pickwick.
'Oh, no! Mind, I don't say that; I expressly say that he's a
devilish gentlemanly fellow,' said Mr. Smangle. 'But I think,
perhaps, if somebody went down, just to see that he didn't dip
his beak into the jug by accident, or make some confounded
mistake in losing the money as he came upstairs, it would be as
well. Here, you sir, just run downstairs, and look after that
gentleman, will you?'
This request was addressed to a little timid-looking, nervous
man, whose appearance bespoke great poverty, and who had
been crouching on his bedstead all this while, apparently
stupefied by the novelty of his situation.
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