'
'Not lost,' said Jingle hastily, 'Pay it all--stick to business--
cash up--every farthing. Yellow fever, perhaps--can't help that
--if not--' Here Mr. Jingle paused, and striking the crown of
his hat with great violence, passed his hand over his eyes, and
sat down.
'He means to say,' said Job, advancing a few paces, 'that if he
is not carried off by the fever, he will pay the money back again.
If he lives, he will, Mr. Pickwick. I will see it done. I know he
will, Sir,' said Job, with energy. 'I could undertake to swear it.'
'Well, well,' said Mr. Pickwick, who had been bestowing a
score or two of frowns upon Perker, to stop his summary of
benefits conferred, which the little attorney obstinately
disregarded, 'you must be careful not to play any more desperate
cricket matches, Mr. Jingle, or to renew your acquaintance with
Sir Thomas Blazo, and I have little doubt of your preserving
your health.'
Mr. Jingle smiled at this sally, but looked rather foolish
notwithstanding; so Mr. Pickwick changed the subject by saying--
'You don't happen to know, do you, what has become of
another friend of yours--a more humble one, whom I saw at Rochester?'
'Dismal Jemmy?' inquired Jingle.
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