At length, in one of these pauses, he heard his lodger's door opened and shut, and footsteps coming down the stairs.

Then, Mr Brass left off writing entirely, and, with his pen in his hand, hummed his very loudest; shaking his head meanwhile from side to side, like a man whose whole soul was in the music, and smiling in a manner quite seraphic.
It was towards this moving spectacle that the staircase and the sweet sounds guided Kit; on whose arrival before his door, Mr Brass stopped his singing, but not his smiling, and nodded affably: at the same time beckoning to him with his pen.
'Kit,' said Mr Brass, in the pleasantest way imaginable, 'how do you do ?' Kit, being rather shy of his friend, made a suitable reply, and had his hand upon the lock of the street door when Mr Brass called him softly back.
'You are not to go, if you please, Kit,' said the attorney in a mysterious and yet business-like way.

'You are to step in here, if you please.

Dear me, dear me! When I look at you,' said the lawyer, quitting his stool, and standing before the fire with his back towards it, 'I am reminded of the sweetest little face that ever my eyes beheld.

I remember your coming there, twice or thrice, when we were in possession.