'Not the damp side,' said Mrs Todgers.

'THAT is Mr Jinkins's.' In the first of these sanctuaries a fire was speedily kindled by the youthful porter, who, whistling at his work in the absence of Mrs Todgers (not to mention his sketching figures on his corduroys with burnt firewood), and being afterwards taken by that lady in the fact, was dismissed with a box on his ears.

Having prepared breakfast for the young ladies with her own hands, she withdrew to preside in the other room; where the joke at Mr Jinkins's expense seemed to be proceeding rather noisily.
'I won't ask you yet, my dears,' said Mr Pecksniff, looking in at the door, 'how you like London.

Shall I ?' 'We haven't seen much of it, Pa!' cried Merry.
'Nothing, I hope,' said Cherry.

(Both very miserably.) 'Indeed,' said Mr Pecksniff, 'that's true.