What a delightful and magnificent entertainment, Steerforth!' Steerforth laughed heartily.
'My dear young Davy,' he said, clapping me on the shoulder again, 'you are a very Daisy.

The daisy of the field, at sunrise, is not fresher than you are.

I have been at Covent Garden, too, and there never was a more miserable business.

Holloa, you sir!' This was addressed to the waiter, who had been very attentive to our recognition, at a distance, and now came forward deferentially.
'Where have you put my friend, Mr.Copperfield ?' said Steerforth.
'Beg your pardon, sir ?' 'Where does he sleep?
What's his number?
You know what I mean,' said Steerforth.
'Well, sir,' said the waiter, with an apologetic air.

'Mr.Copperfield is at present in forty-four, sir.' 'And what the devil do you mean,' retorted Steerforth, 'by putting Mr.
Copperfield into a little loft over a stable ?' 'Why, you see we wasn't aware, sir,' returned the waiter, still apologetically, 'as Mr.Copperfield was anyways particular.