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In which Mr. Pickwick encounters an old Acquaintance — To which fortunate Circumstance the Reader is

           Nothingcouldbeeasierthanforthegentlemantoinclosealetterinasheetofbrownpaper,andsenditon,eitherbythemailorthenightcoachfromBirmingham.Ifthegentlemanwereparticularlyanxioustohaveitleftassoonaspossible,hemightwriteoutside,‘Tobedeliveredimmediately,’whichwassuretobeattendedto;or‘Paythebearerhalf-a-crownextraforinstantdelivery,’whichwassurerstill.

           ‘Verywell,’saidMr.Pickwick,‘thenwewillstophere.’

           ‘LightsintheSun,John;makeupthefire;thegentlemenarewet!’criedthelandlord.‘Thisway,gentlemen;don’ttroubleyourselvesaboutthepostboynow,sir.I’llsendhimtoyouwhenyouringforhim,sir.Now,John,thecandles.’

           Thecandleswerebrought,thefirewasstirredup,andafreshlogofwoodthrownon.Intenminutes’time,awaiterwaslayingtheclothfordinner,thecurtainsweredrawn,thefirewasblazingbrightly,andeverythinglooked(aseverythingalwaysdoes,inalldecentEnglishinns)asifthetravellershadbeenexpected,andtheircomfortsprepared,fordaysbeforehand.

           Mr.Pickwicksatdownatasidetable,andhastilyinditedanotetoMr.Winkle,merelyinforminghimthathewasdetainedbystressofweather,butwouldcertainlybeinLondonnextday;untilwhenhedeferredanyaccountofhisproceedings.Thisnotewashastilymadeintoaparcel,anddespatchedtothebarperMr.SamuelWeller.

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