'I'm not going to sleep in the fresh air; no, nor I'm not going into the country either.

A pretty thing at this time of day, certainly.

Pho!' 'Damn your obstinacy, Tim Linkinwater,' said brother Charles, looking at him without the faintest spark of anger, and with a countenance radiant with attachment to the old clerk.

'Damn your obstinacy, Tim Linkinwater, what do you mean, sir ?' 'It's forty-four year,' said Tim, making a calculation in the air with his pen, and drawing an imaginary line before he cast it up, 'forty-four year, next May, since I first kept the books of Cheeryble, Brothers.
I've opened the safe every morning all that time (Sundays excepted) as the clock struck nine, and gone over the house every night at half-past ten (except on Foreign Post nights, and then twenty minutes before twelve) to see the doors fastened, and the fires out.

I've never slept out of the back-attic one single night.