'Have I detected you in another feast, you Sybarite! These Doctors' Commons fellows are the gayest men in town, I believe, and beat us sober Oxford people all to nothing!' His bright glance went merrily round the room, as he took the seat on the sofa opposite to me, which Mrs.Micawber had recently vacated, and stirred the fire into a blaze.
'I was so surprised at first,' said I, giving him welcome with all the cordiality I felt, 'that I had hardly breath to greet you with, Steerforth.' 'Well, the sight of me is good for sore eyes, as the Scotch say,' replied Steerforth, 'and so is the sight of you, Daisy, in full bloom.
How are you, my Bacchanal ?' 'I am very well,' said I; 'and not at all Bacchanalian tonight, though I confess to another party of three.' 'All of whom I met in the street, talking loud in your praise,' returned Steerforth.

'Who's our friend in the tights ?' I gave him the best idea I could, in a few words, of Mr.Micawber.

He laughed heartily at my feeble portrait of that gentleman, and said he was a man to know, and he must know him.

'But who do you suppose our other friend is ?' said I, in my turn.
'Heaven knows,' said Steerforth.

'Not a bore, I hope?
I thought he looked a little like one.' 'Traddles!' I replied, triumphantly.
'Who's he ?' asked Steerforth, in his careless way.
'Don't you remember Traddles?
Traddles in our room at Salem House ?' 'Oh! That fellow!' said Steerforth, beating a lump of coal on the top of the fire, with the poker.