 By a like
pleasant fiction his single chamber was always mentioned in the plural number.
In its disengaged times, the tobacconist had announced it in his window as
apartments for a single gentleman, and Mr. Swiveller, following up the hint,
never failed to speak of it as his rooms, his lodgings, or his chambers:
conveying to his hearers a notion of indefinite space, and leaving their
imaginations to wander through long suites of lofty halls, at pleasure.
    In this flight of fancy, Mr. Swiveller was assisted by a deceptive piece of
furniture, in reality a bedstead, but in semblance a bookcase, which occupied a
prominent situation in his chamber and seemed to defy suspicion and challenge
inquiry. There is no doubt that, by day, Mr. Swiveller firmly believed this
secret convenience to be a bookcase and nothing more; that he closed his eyes to
the bed, resolutely denied the existence of the blankets, and spurned the
bolster from his thoughts. No word of its real use, no hint of its nightly
service, no allusion to its peculiar properties, had ever passed between him and
his most intimate friends. Implicit faith in the deception was the first article
of his creed. To be the friend of Swiveller you must reject all circumstantial
evidence, all reason, observation, and experience, and repose a blind belief in
the bookcase. It was his pet weakness, and he cherished it.
    »Fred!« said Mr. Swiveller, finding that his former adjuration had been
productive of no effect. »Pass the rosy!«
    Young Trent, with an impatient gesture, pushed the glass towards him, and
fell again into the moody attitude from which he had been unwillingly roused.
    »I'll give you, Fred,« said his friend, stirring the mixture, »a little
sentiment appropriate to the occasion. Here's May the -«
    »Pshaw!« interposed the other. »You worry me to death with your chattering.
You can be merry under any circumstances.«
    »Why, Mr. Trent,« returned Dick, »there is a proverb which talks about being
merry and wise. There are some people who can be merry and can't be wise, and
some who can be wise (or think they can) and can't be merry. I'm one of the
first sort. If the proverb's a good 'un, I suppose it's better to keep to half
of it than none; at all events I'd rather be merry and not wise, than be like
you - neither one
