Sometimes I injure my health rather more than I can quite justify to myself, by doing so; but art is long and time is short.
Every facility you see for jotting down crude notions, even here.' These latter words were explained by his pointing to a small round table on which were a lamp, divers sheets of paper, a piece of India rubber, and a case of instruments; all put ready, in case an architectural idea should come into Mr Pecksniff's head in the night; in which event he would instantly leap out of bed, and fix it for ever.
Mr Pecksniff opened another door on the same floor, and shut it again, all at once, as if it were a Blue Chamber.

But before he had well done so, he looked smilingly round, and said, 'Why not ?' Martin couldn't say why not, because he didn't know anything at all about it.

So Mr Pecksniff answered himself, by throwing open the door, and saying: 'My daughters' room.

A poor first-floor to us, but a bower to them.

Very neat.