As a protection against this latter inconvenience Mr. Swiveller had been sitting for some time with his feet on the hob, in which attitude he now gave utterance to these apologetic observations, and slowly sipped the last choice drops of nectar. "The Baron Sampsono Brasso and his fair sister are (you tell me) at the Play?" said Mr. Swiveller, leaning his left arm heavily upon the table, and raising his voice and his right leg after the manner of a bandit in the theater. The Marchioness nodded. "Ha!" said Mr. Swiveller with a portentous frown. "'Tis well, Marchioness!--but no matter. Some wine there. Ho!" He illustrated these melodramatic morsels by handing the glass to himself with great humility, receiving it haughtily, drinking from it thirstily, and smacking his lips fiercely. The small servant, who was not so well acquainted with theatrical customs as Mr. Swiveller (having indeed never seen a play or heard one spoken of, except by some chance through chinks of doors and in other forbidden places), was rather alarmed by demonstrations so strange in their nature, and showed her concern so plainly in her looks that Mr. Swiveller felt it necessary to change his brigand manner for one more suitable to private life, as he asked: "Do they often go where glory waits 'em, and leave you here?" "Oh, yes; I believe they do," returned the small servant. "Miss Sally's such a one-er for that, she is." "Such a what?" said Dick. "Such a one-er," returned the Marchioness. After a moment's reflection, Mr. Swiveller determined to forego his responsible duty of setting her right and to suffer her to talk on, as it was evident that her tongue was loosened by the purl and her opportunities for conversation were not so frequent as to render a momentary check of little consequence. "They sometimes go to see Mr. Quilp," said the small servant with a shrewd look; "they go to a good many places, bless you." "Is Mr. Brass a wunner?" said Dick. "Not half what Miss Sally is, he isn't," replied the small servant, shaking her head. "Bless you, he'd never do anything without her." "Oh! He wouldn't, wouldn't he?" said Dick. "Miss Sally keeps him in such order," said the small servant; "he always asks her advice, he does; and he catches it sometimes. Bless you, you wouldn't believe how much he catches it." "I suppose," said Dick, "that they consult together a good deal, and talk about a great many people--about me, for instance sometimes, eh, Marchioness?" The Marchioness nodded amazingly. "Do they speak of me in a friendly manner?" said Mr. Swiveller. The Marchioness changed the motion of her head, which had not yet left off nodding, and suddenly began to shake it from side to side so hard as to threaten breaking her neck. "Humph!" Dick muttered. "Would it be any breach of confidence, Marchioness, to relate what they say of the humble individual who has now the honor to----?" "Miss Sally says you're a funny chap," replied his friend.