A gold eye-glass was suspended from his neck by a short, broad, black ribbon; a gold snuff-box was lightly clasped in his left hand; gold rings innumerable glittered on his fingers; and a large diamond pin set in gold glistened in his shirt frill.

He had a gold watch, and a gold curb chain with large gold seals; and he carried a pliant ebony cane with a gold top.
His linen was of the very whitest, finest, and stiffest; his wig of the glossiest, blackest, and curliest.

His snuff was princes' mixture; his scent BOUQUET DU ROI.

His features were contracted into a perpetual smile; and his teeth were in such perfect order that it was difficult at a small distance to tell the real from the false.
'Mr.Pickwick,' said Mr.Dowler; 'my friend, Angelo Cyrus Bantam, Esquire, M.C.; Bantam; Mr.Pickwick.Know each other.' 'Welcome to Ba-ath, Sir.

This is indeed an acquisition.