Tom was advancing towards this remarkable creature, to inquire the way to Furnival’s Inn, when two people came to see the Monument. They were a gentleman and a lady; and the gentleman said, ‘How much a-piece?’
The Man in the Monument replied, ‘A Tanner.’
It seemed a low expression, compared with the Monument.
The gentleman put a shilling into his hand, and the Man in the Monument opened a dark little door. When the gentleman and lady had passed out of view, he shut it again, and came slowly back to his chair.
He sat down and laughed.
‘They don’t know what a many steps there is!’ he said. ‘It’s worth twice the money to stop here. Oh, my eye!’
The Man in the Monument was a Cynic; a worldly man! Tom couldn’t ask his way of him. He was prepared to put no confidence in anything he said.
‘My gracious!’ cried a well-known voice behind Mr Pinch. ‘Why, to be sure it is!’
At the same time he was poked in the back by a parasol. Turning round to inquire into this salute, he beheld the eldest daughter of his late patron.
‘Miss Pecksniff!’ said Tom.