'For all I know'd he was one o' the regular threepennies.

Private room! and a lady too! If he's anything of a gen'l'm'n, he's vurth a shillin' a day, let alone the arrands.' Stimulated by this inspiring reflection, Mr.Samuel brushed away with such hearty good-will, that in a few minutes the boots and shoes, with a polish which would have struck envy to the soul of the amiable Mr.Warren (for they used Day & Martin at the White Hart), had arrived at the door of number five.
'Come in,' said a man's voice, in reply to Sam's rap at the door.

Sam made his best bow, and stepped into the presence of a lady and gentleman seated at breakfast.

Having officiously deposited the gentleman's boots right and left at his feet, and the lady's shoes right and left at hers, he backed towards the door.
'Boots,' said the gentleman.
'Sir,' said Sam, closing the door, and keeping his hand on the knob of the lock.

'Do you know--what's a-name--Doctors' Commons ?' 'Yes, Sir.' 'Where is it ?' 'Paul's Churchyard, Sir; low archway on the carriage side, bookseller's at one corner, hot-el on the other, and two porters in the middle as touts for licences.' 'Touts for licences!' said the gentleman.
'Touts for licences,' replied Sam.