Our friend Mr.Skimpole--don't be alarmed!--is arrested for debt." "And really, my dear Miss Summerson," said Mr.Skimpole with his agreeable candour, "I never was in a situation in which that excellent sense and quiet habit of method and usefulness, which anybody must observe in you who has the happiness of being a quarter of an hour in your society, was more needed." The person on the sofa, who appeared to have a cold in his head, gave such a very loud snort that he startled me.
"Are you arrested for much, sir ?" I inquired of Mr.Skimpole.
"My dear Miss Summerson," said he, shaking his head pleasantly, "I don't know.

Some pounds, odd shillings, and halfpence, I think, were mentioned." "It's twenty-four pound, sixteen, and sevenpence ha'penny," observed the stranger.

"That's wot it is." "And it sounds--somehow it sounds," said Mr.Skimpole, "like a small sum ?" The strange man said nothing but made another snort.

It was such a powerful one that it seemed quite to lift him out of his seat.
"Mr.Skimpole," said Richard to me, "has a delicacy in applying to my cousin Jarndyce because he has lately--I think, sir, I understood you that you had lately--" "Oh, yes!" returned Mr.Skimpole, smiling.

"Though I forgot how much it was and when it was.