'That's your master in the carriage, I suppose?' said Lowten.
The boy nodded.
All further inquiries were superseded by the appearance of old
Wardle, who, running upstairs and just recognising Lowten,
passed at once into Mr. Perker's room.
'Pickwick!' said the old gentleman. 'Your hand, my boy! Why
have I never heard until the day before yesterday of your suffering
yourself to be cooped up in jail? And why did you let him do
it, Perker?'
'I couldn't help it, my dear Sir,' replied Perker, with a smile
and a pinch of snuff; 'you know how obstinate he is?'
'Of course I do; of course I do,' replied the old gentleman. 'I
am heartily glad to see him, notwithstanding. I will not lose
sight of him again, in a hurry.'
With these words, Wardle shook Mr. Pickwick's hand once
more, and, having done the same by Perker, threw himself into
an arm-chair, his jolly red face shining again with smiles and health.
'Well!' said Wardle. 'Here are pretty goings on--a pinch of
your snuff, Perker, my boy--never were such times, eh?'
'What do you mean?' inquired Mr. Pickwick.
'Mean!' replied Wardle. 'Why, I think the girls are all running
mad; that's no news, you'll say? Perhaps it's not; but it's true,
for all that.
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