This gave him a rakish eccentric air which, now that he had leisure to observe it, charmed Mr Swiveller exceedingly; therefore, by way of propitiation, he expressed his hope that the gentleman was going to get up, and further that he would never do so any more.
'Come here, you impudent rascal!' was the lodger's answer as he re-entered his room.
Mr Swiveller followed him in, leaving the stool outside, but reserving the ruler in case of a surprise.

He rather congratulated himself on his prudence when the single gentleman, without notice or explanation of any kind, double-locked the door.
'Can you drink anything ?' was his next inquiry.
Mr Swiveller replied that he had very recently been assuaging the pangs of thirst, but that he was still open to 'a modest quencher,' if the materials were at hand.

Without another word spoken on either side, the lodger took from his great trunk, a kind of temple, shining as of polished silver, and placed it carefully on the table.
Greatly interested in his proceedings, Mr Swiveller observed him closely.

Into one little chamber of this temple, he dropped an egg; into another some coffee; into a third a compact piece of raw steak from a neat tin case; into a fourth, he poured some water.

Then, with the aid of a phosphorus-box and some matches, he procured a light and applied it to a spirit-lamp which had a place of its own below the temple; then, he shut down the lids of all the little chambers; then he opened them; and then, by some wonderful and unseen agency, the steak was done, the egg was boiled, the coffee was accurately prepared, and his breakfast was ready.
'Hot water--' said the lodger, handing it to Mr Swiveller with as much coolness as if he had a kitchen fire before him--'extraordinary rum--sugar--and a travelling glass.