Rustling among last year's leaves, whose scent woke memory of the past, the placid Pecksniff strolled—Chap. xxx.
"I say," cried Tom, in great excitement, "He is a scoundrel and a villain! I don't care who he is, I say he is a double-dyed and most intolerable villain"—Chap. xxxi.
"Mr. Pinch," said Mr. Pecksniff, shaking his head, "Oh, Mr. Pinch! I wonder how you can look me in the face!"—Chap. xxxi.
On the fourteenth night he kissed Miss Pecksniff's snuffers, in the passage, when she went upstairs to bed: meaning to have kissed her hand, but missing it—Chap. xxii.