When I came home in the afternoon, and saw the bottles drawn up in a square on the pantry floor, they looked so numerous (though there were two missing, which made Mrs.Crupp very uncomfortable), that I was absolutely frightened at them.
One of Steerforth's friends was named Grainger, and the other Markham.
They were both very gay and lively fellows; Grainger, something older than Steerforth; Markham, youthful-looking, and I should say not more than twenty.

I observed that the latter always spoke of himself indefinitely, as 'a man', and seldom or never in the first person singular.
'A man might get on very well here, Mr.Copperfield,' said Markham--meaning himself.
'It's not a bad situation,' said I, 'and the rooms are really commodious.' 'I hope you have both brought appetites with you ?' said Steerforth.
'Upon my honour,' returned Markham, 'town seems to sharpen a man's appetite.

A man is hungry all day long.

A man is perpetually eating.' Being a little embarrassed at first, and feeling much too young to preside, I made Steerforth take the head of the table when dinner was announced, and seated myself opposite to him.

Everything was very good; we did not spare the wine; and he exerted himself so brilliantly to make the thing pass off well, that there was no pause in our festivity.