'Do you stop here, sir ?' 'I do,' said Mr.Pickwick.
'Dear me,' said Mr.Magnus, 'I never knew anything like these extraordinary coincidences.

Why, I stop here too.

I hope we dine together ?' 'With pleasure,' replied Mr.Pickwick.

'I am not quite certain whether I have any friends here or not, though.

Is there any gentleman of the name of Tupman here, waiter ?' A corpulent man, with a fortnight's napkin under his arm, and coeval stockings on his legs, slowly desisted from his occupation of staring down the street, on this question being put to him by Mr.Pickwick; and, after minutely inspecting that gentleman's appearance, from the crown of his hat to the lowest button of his gaiters, replied emphatically-- 'No!' 'Nor any gentleman of the name of Snodgrass ?' inquired Mr.Pickwick.
'No!' 'Nor Winkle ?' 'No!' 'My friends have not arrived to-day, Sir,' said Mr.Pickwick.