Richard Swiveller comes hastily up, elbows the bystanders out of the way, takes her (after some trouble) in one arm after the manner of theatrical ravishers, and, nodding to Kit, and commanding Barbara's mother to follow, for he has a coach waiting, bears her swiftly off.
Well; Richard took her home.

And what astonishing absurdities in the way of quotation from song and poem he perpetrated on the road, no man knows.

He took her home, and stayed till she was recovered; and, having no money to pay the coach, went back in state to Bevis Marks, bidding the driver (for it was Saturday night) wait at the door while he went in for 'change.' 'Mr Richard, sir,' said Brass cheerfully, 'Good evening!' Monstrous as Kit's tale had appeared, at first, Mr Richard did, that night, half suspect his affable employer of some deep villany.

Perhaps it was but the misery he had just witnessed which gave his careless nature this impulse; but, be that as it may, it was very strong upon him, and he said in as few words as possible, what he wanted.
'Money ?' cried Brass, taking out his purse.

'Ha ha! To be sure, Mr Richard, to be sure, sir.