Would you like this room, sir?
Honour me by walking in.

Do me the favour, pray.' 'Goodness gracious me!' cried Kit's mother, falling back in extreme surprise, 'only think of this!' She had some reason to be astonished, for the person who proffered the gracious invitation was no other than Daniel Quilp.

The little door out of which he had thrust his head was close to the inn larder; and there he stood, bowing with grotesque politeness; as much at his ease as if the door were that of his own house; blighting all the legs of mutton and cold roast fowls by his close companionship, and looking like the evil genius of the cellars come from underground upon some work of mischief.
'Would you do me the honour ?' said Quilp.
'I prefer being alone,' replied the single gentleman.
'Oh!' said Quilp.

And with that, he darted in again with one jerk and clapped the little door to, like a figure in a Dutch clock when the hour strikes.
'Why it was only last night, sir,' whispered Kit's mother, 'that I left him in Little Bethel.' 'Indeed!' said her fellow-passenger.

'When did that person come here, waiter ?' 'Come down by the night-coach, this morning, sir.' 'Humph! And when is he going ?' 'Can't say, sir, really.