It was at Roundhand's house, Myddelton Square, Pentonville, over a fillet of veal and bacon and a glass of port, that I learned and saw how his wife ill- treated him; as I have told before.

Poor fellow!--we under-clerks all thought it was a fine thing to sit at a desk by oneself, and have 50_l_.
per month, as Roundhand had; but I've a notion that Hoskins and I, blowing duets on the flute together in our second floor in Salisbury Square, were a great deal more at ease than our head--and more _in harmony_, too; though we made sad work of the music, certainly.
One day Gus Hoskins and I asked leave from Roundhand to be off at three o'clock, as we had _particular business_ at the West End.

He knew it was about the great Hoggarty diamond, and gave us permission; so off we set.
When we reached St.Martin's Lane, Gus got a cigar, to give himself as it were a _distingue_ air, and pulled at it all the way up the Lane, and through the alleys into Coventry Street, where Mr.Polonius's shop is, as everybody knows.
The door was open, and a number of carriages full of ladies were drawing up and setting down.

Gus kept his hands in his pockets--trousers were worn very full then, with large tucks, and pigeon-holes for your boots, or Bluchers, to come through (the fashionables wore boots, but we chaps in the City, on 80_l_.

a year, contented ourselves with Bluchers); and as Gus stretched out his pantaloons as wide as he could from his hips, and kept blowing away at his cheroot, and clamping with the iron heels of his boots, and had very large whiskers for so young a man, he really looked quite the genteel thing, and was taken by everybody to be a person of consideration.
He would not come into the shop though, but stood staring at the gold pots and kettles in the window outside.