Sam, having been formally delivered into the warden’s custody, to the intense astonishment of Roker, and to the evident emotion of even the phlegmatic Neddy, passed at once into the prison, walked straight to his master’s room, and knocked at the door.
“Come in,” said Mr. Pickwick.
Sam appeared, pulled off his hat, and smiled.
“Ah, Sam, my good lad!” said Mr. Pickwick, evidently delighted to see his humble friend again; “I had no intention of hurting your feelings yesterday, my faithful fellow, by what I said. Put down your hat, Sam, and let me explain my meaning, a little more at length.”
“Won’t presently do, sir?” inquired Sam.
“Certainly,” said Mr. Pickwick; “but why not now?”
“I’d rayther not now, sir,” rejoined Sam.
“Why?” inquired Mr. Pickwick.
“’Cause—” said Sam, hesitating.
“Because of what?” inquired Mr. Pickwick, alarmed at his follower’s manner. “Speak out, Sam.”