After this, they walked out, or drove out, or were pushed out in bath-chairs, and met one another again.
After this, the gentlemen went to the reading-rooms, and met divisions of the mass.

After this, they went home.

If it were theatre-night, perhaps they met at the theatre; if it were assembly-night, they met at the rooms; and if it were neither, they met the next day.

A very pleasant routine, with perhaps a slight tinge of sameness.
Mr.Pickwick was sitting up by himself, after a day spent in this manner, making entries in his journal, his friends having retired to bed, when he was roused by a gentle tap at the room door.
'Beg your pardon, Sir,' said Mrs.Craddock, the landlady, peeping in; 'but did you want anything more, sir ?' 'Nothing more, ma'am,' replied Mr.Pickwick.
'My young girl is gone to bed, Sir,' said Mrs.Craddock; 'and Mr.Dowler is good enough to say that he'll sit up for Mrs.Dowler, as the party isn't expected to be over till late; so I was thinking that if you wanted nothing more, Mr.Pickwick, I would go to bed.' 'By all means, ma'am,' replied Mr.Pickwick.

'Wish you good-night, Sir,' said Mrs.Craddock.
'Good-night, ma'am,' rejoined Mr.Pickwick.
Mrs.Craddock closed the door, and Mr.Pickwick resumed his writing.
In half an hour's time the entries were concluded.