Lock the counting-house, you dog, and bring me the key.' The other boy, to whom this order was addressed, did as he was told, and was rewarded for his partizanship in behalf of his master, by a dexterous rap on the nose with the key, which brought the water into his eyes.

Then Mr Quilp departed with the child and Kit in a boat, and the boy revenged himself by dancing on his head at intervals on the extreme verge of the wharf, during the whole time they crossed the river.
There was only Mrs Quilp at home, and she, little expecting the return of her lord, was just composing herself for a refreshing slumber when the sound of his footsteps roused her.

She had barely time to seem to be occupied in some needle-work, when he entered, accompanied by the child; having left Kit downstairs.
'Here's Nelly Trent, dear Mrs Quilp,' said her husband.

'A glass of wine, my dear, and a biscuit, for she has had a long walk.

She'll sit with you, my soul, while I write a letter.' Mrs Quilp looked tremblingly in her spouse's face to know what this unusual courtesy might portend, and obedient to the summons she saw in his gesture, followed him into the next room.
'Mind what I say to you,' whispered Quilp.