'Let us drink the lovely Sarah.' 'If we could do it in something, sir, that wasn't quite boiling,' suggested Brass humbly, 'perhaps it would be better.

I think it will be more agreeable to Sarah's feelings, when she comes to hear from me of the honour you have done her, if she learns it was in liquor rather cooler than the last, Sir.' But to these remonstrances, Mr Quilp turned a deaf ear.

Sampson Brass, who was, by this time, anything but sober, being compelled to take further draughts of the same strong bowl, found that, instead of at all contributing to his recovery, they had the novel effect of making the counting-house spin round and round with extreme velocity, and causing the floor and ceiling to heave in a very distressing manner.

After a brief stupor, he awoke to a consciousness of being partly under the table and partly under the grate.

This position not being the most comfortable one he could have chosen for himself, he managed to stagger to his feet, and, holding on by the admiral, looked round for his host.
Mr Brass's first impression was, that his host was gone and had left him there alone--perhaps locked him in for the night.