Having
done this, Bob replaced the cork with great care, and looking
benignantly down on Mr. Pickwick, took a large bite out of the
sandwich, and smiled.
'Come,' said Mr. Pickwick, whose momentary anger was not
quite proof against Bob's immovable self-possession, 'pray let us
have no more of this absurdity.'
'No, no,' replied Bob, once more exchanging hats with Mr.
Weller; 'I didn't mean to do it, only I got so enlivened with the
ride that I couldn't help it.'
'Think of the look of the thing,' expostulated Mr. Pickwick;
'have some regard to appearances.'
'Oh, certainly,' said Bob, 'it's not the sort of thing at all. All
over, governor.'
Satisfied with this assurance, Mr. Pickwick once more drew his
head into the chaise and pulled up the glass; but he had scarcely
resumed the conversation which Mr. Bob Sawyer had interrupted,
when he was somewhat startled by the apparition of a small dark
body, of an oblong form, on the outside of the window, which
gave sundry taps against it, as if impatient of admission.
'What's this?'exclaimed Mr. Pickwick.
'It looks like a case-bottle;' remarked Ben Allen, eyeing the
object in question through his spectacles with some interest; 'I
rather think it belongs to Bob.
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