Sally. After a
very gallant parting on his side, and a very cool and gentlemanly sort
of one on hers, he nodded to Dick Swiveller, and withdrew with the
attorney.

Dick stood at the desk in a state of utter stupefaction, staring with
all his might at the beauteous Sally, as if she had been some curious
animal whose like had never lived. When the dwarf got into the street,
he mounted again upon the window-sill, and looked into the office for a
moment with a grinning face, as a man might peep into a cage. Dick
glanced upward at him, but without any token of recognition; and long
after he had disappeared, still stood gazing upon Miss Sally Brass,
seeing or thinking of nothing else, and rooted to the spot.

Miss Brass being by this time deep in the bill of costs, took no notice
whatever of Dick, but went scratching on, with a noisy pen, scoring
down the figures with evident delight, and working like a steam-engine.
There stood Dick, gazing now at the green gown, now at the brown
head-dress, now at the face, and now at the rapid pen, in a state of
stupid perplexity, wondering how he got into the company of that
strange monster, and whether it was a dream and he would ever wake. At
last he heaved a deep sigh, and began slowly pulling off his coat.

Mr Swiveller pulled off his coat, and folded it up with great
elaboration, staring at Miss Sally all the time; then put on a blue
jacket with a double row of gilt buttons, which he had originally
ordered for aquatic expeditions, but had brought with him that morning
for office purposes; and, still keeping his eye upon her, suffered
himself to drop down silently upon Mr Brass's stool. Then he underwent
a relapse, and becoming powerless again, rested his chin upon his hand,
and opened his eyes so wide, that it appeared quite out of the question
that he could ever close them any more.

When he had looked so long that he could see nothing, Dick took his
eyes off the fair object of his amazement, turned over the leaves of
the draft he was to copy, dipped his pen into the inkstand, and at
last, and by slow approaches, began to write. But he had not written
half-a-dozen words when, reaching over to the inkstand to take a fresh
dip, he happened to raise his eyes. There was the intolerable brown
head-dress--there was the green gown--there, in short, was Miss Sally
Brass, arrayed in all her charms, and more tremendous than ever.

This happened so often, that Mr Swiveller by degre