'
'Miss Wardle is with you, then?' said Mr. Pickwick.
'To be sure she is,' replied Wardle. 'She is at Osborne's Hotel
in the Adelphi at this moment, unless your enterprising friend
has run away with her since I came out this morning.'
'You are reconciled then?' said Perker.
'Not a bit of it,' answered Wardle; 'she has been crying and
moping ever since, except last night, between tea and supper,
when she made a great parade of writing a letter that I pretended
to take no notice of.'
'You want my advice in this matter, I suppose?' said Perker,
looking from the musing face of Mr. Pickwick to the eager
countenance of Wardle, and taking several consecutive pinches
of his favourite stimulant.
'I suppose so,' said Wardle, looking at Mr. Pickwick.
'Certainly,' replied that gentleman.
'Well then,' said Perker, rising and pushing his chair back,
'my advice is, that you both walk away together, or ride away, or
get away by some means or other, for I'm tired of you, and just
talk this matter over between you. If you have not settled it by
the next time I see you, I'll tell you what to do.'
'This is satisfactory,' said Wardle, hardly knowing whether to
smile or be offended.
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