Seated on an upright tombstone, close to him, was a strange unearthly figure—Chap. xxix.
Mr. Pickwick . . . . went slowly and gravely down the slide, with his feet about a yard and a quarter apart, amidst the gratified shouts of all the spectators—Chap. xxx.
A little fierce woman bounced into the room, all in a tremble with passion, and pale with rage—Chap. xxxii.
With a countenance greatly mollified by the softening influence of tobacco, requested him to "fire away"—Chap. xxxiii.