So Mrs Boffin and me grow older and older in the old man's service, living and working pretty hard in it, till the old man is discovered dead in his bed.

Then Mrs Boffin and me seal up his box, always standing on the table at the side of his bed, and having frequently heerd tell of the Temple as a spot where lawyer's dust is contracted for, I come down here in search of a lawyer to advise, and I see your young man up at this present elevation, chopping at the flies on the window-sill with his penknife, and I give him a Hoy! not then having the pleasure of your acquaintance, and by that means come to gain the honour.

Then you, and the gentleman in the uncomfortable neck-cloth under the little archway in Saint Paul's Churchyard--' 'Doctors' Commons,' observed Lightwood.
'I understood it was another name,' said Mr Boffin, pausing, 'but you know best.

Then you and Doctor Scommons, you go to work, and you do the thing that's proper, and you and Doctor S.take steps for finding out the poor boy, and at last you do find out the poor boy, and me and Mrs Boffin often exchange the observation, "We shall see him again, under happy circumstances." But it was never to be; and the want of satisfactoriness is, that after all the money never gets to him.' 'But it gets,' remarked Lightwood, with a languid inclination of the head, 'into excellent hands.' 'It gets into the hands of me and Mrs Boffin only this very day and hour, and that's what I am working round to, having waited for this day and hour a' purpose.

Mr Lightwood, here has been a wicked cruel murder.