Wherein Mr. Peter Magnus grows jealous, and the middle-aged Lady apprehensive, which brings the Pick

           WhenMr.PickwickdescendedtotheroominwhichheandMr.PeterMagnushadspenttheprecedingevening,hefoundthatgentlemanwiththemajorpartofthecontentsofthetwobags,theleathernhat-box,andthebrown-paperparcel,displayingtoallpossibleadvantageonhisperson,whilehehimselfwaspacingupanddowntheroominastateoftheutmostexcitementandagitation.

           ‘Good-morning,Sir,’saidMr.PeterMagnus.‘Whatdoyouthinkofthis,Sir?’

           ‘Veryeffectiveindeed,’repliedMr.Pickwick,surveyingthegarmentsofMr.PeterMagnuswithagood-naturedsmile.

           ‘Yes,Ithinkit’lldo,’saidMr.Magnus.‘Mr.Pickwick,Sir,Ihavesentupmycard.’

           ‘Haveyou?’saidMr.Pickwick.

           ‘Andthewaiterbroughtbackword,thatshewouldseemeatelevenateleven,Sir;itonlywantsaquarternow.’

           ‘Verynearthetime,’saidMr.Pickwick.

           ‘Yes,itisrathernear,’repliedMr.Magnus,‘rathertooneartobepleasanteh!Mr.Pickwick,sir?’

           ‘Confidenceisagreatthinginthesecases,’observedMr.Pickwick.

           ‘Ibelieveitis,Sir,’saidMr.PeterMagnus.‘Iamveryconfident,Sir.Really,Mr.Pickwick,Idonotseewhyamanshouldfeelanyfearinsuchacaseasthis,sir.Whatisit,Sir?There’snothingtobeashamedof;it’samatterofmutualaccommodation,nothingmore.Husbandononeside,wifeontheother.

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