So, into the office they went; Mr Sampson and his sister arm-in-arm; and Mr Swiveller following, alone.
The notary was standing before the fire in the outer office, talking to Mr Abel and the elder Mr Garland, while Mr Chuckster sat writing at the desk, picking up such crumbs of their conversation as happened to fall in his way.

This posture of affairs Mr Brass observed through the glass-door as he was turning the handle, and seeing that the notary recognised him, he began to shake his head and sigh deeply while that partition yet divided them.
'Sir,' said Sampson, taking off his hat, and kissing the two fore-fingers of his right hand beaver glove, 'my name is Brass--Brass of Bevis Marks, Sir.

I have had the honour and pleasure, Sir, of being concerned against you in some little testamentary matters.

How do you do, sir ?' 'My clerk will attend to any business you may have come upon, Mr Brass,' said the notary, turning away.
'Thank you Sir,' said Brass, 'thank you, I am sure.

Allow me, Sir, to introduce my sister--quite one of us Sir, although of the weaker sex--of great use in my business Sir, I assure you.