Ten pounds down.

The bargain's made.' 'Why you see,' said Dick, 'my name is not Brass, and--' 'Who said it was?
My name's not Brass.

What then ?' 'The name of the master of the house is,' said Dick.
'I'm glad of it,' returned the single gentleman; 'it's a good name for a lawyer.

Coachman, you may go.

So may you, Sir.' Mr Swiveller was so much confounded by the single gentleman riding roughshod over him at this rate, that he stood looking at him almost as hard as he had looked at Miss Sally.