No thanks.

Remember--eleven o'clock.' 'There is no fear of my forgetting it, sir,' replied Job Trotter.

With these words he left the room, followed by Sam.
'I say,' said the latter, 'not a bad notion that 'ere crying.

I'd cry like a rain-water spout in a shower on such good terms.

How do you do it ?' 'It comes from the heart, Mr.Walker,' replied Job solemnly.
'Good-morning, sir.' 'You're a soft customer, you are; we've got it all out o' you, anyhow,' thought Mr.Weller, as Job walked away.
We cannot state the precise nature of the thoughts which passed through Mr.Trotter's mind, because we don't know what they were.
The day wore on, evening came, and at a little before ten o'clock Sam Weller reported that Mr.Jingle and Job had gone out together, that their luggage was packed up, and that they had ordered a chaise.