'Is this Bury St.Edmunds ?' 'It is,' replied Mr.Pickwick.
The coach rattled through the well-paved streets of a handsome little town, of thriving and cleanly appearance, and stopped before a large inn situated in a wide open street, nearly facing the old abbey.
'And this,' said Mr.Pickwick, looking up.

'Is the Angel! We alight here, Sam.

But some caution is necessary.

Order a private room, and do not mention my name.

You understand.' 'Right as a trivet, sir,' replied Mr.Weller, with a wink of intelligence; and having dragged Mr.Pickwick's portmanteau from the hind boot, into which it had been hastily thrown when they joined the coach at Eatanswill, Mr.Weller disappeared on his errand.