 was so well as I
find myself at present, I'm obliged to you.«
    After stating this curious and unexpected fact, Mr. Toots fell into a deep
well of silence.
    »You have left Doctor Blimber's, I think?« said Florence, trying to help him
out.
    »I should hope so,« returned Mr. Toots. And tumbled in again.
    He remained at the bottom, apparently drowned, for at least ten minutes. At
the expiration of that period, he suddenly floated, and said,
    »Well! Good morning, Miss Dombey.«
    »Are you going?« asked Florence, rising.
    »I don't know, though. No, not just at present,« said Mr. Toots, sitting
down again, most unexpectedly. »The fact is - I say, Miss Dombey!«
    »Don't be afraid to speak to me,« said Florence, with a quiet smile, »I
should be very glad if you would talk about my brother.«
    »Would you, though?« retorted Mr. Toots, with sympathy in every fibre of his
otherwise expressionless face. »Poor Dombey! I'm sure I never thought that
Burgess and Co. - fashionable tailors (but very dear), that we used to talk
about - would make this suit of clothes for such a purpose.« Mr. Toots was
dressed in mourning. »Poor Dombey! I say! Miss Dombey!« blubbered Toots.
    »Yes,« said Florence.
    »There's a friend he took to very much at last. I thought you'd like to have
him, perhaps, as a sort of keepsake. You remember his remembering Diogenes?«
    »Oh yes! oh yes!« cried Florence.
    »Poor Dombey! So do I,« said Mr. Toots.
    Mr. Toots, seeing Florence in tears, had great difficulty in getting beyond
this point, and had nearly tumbled into the well again. But a chuckle saved him
on the brink.
    »I say,« he proceeded, »Miss Dombey! I could have had him stolen for ten
shillings, if they hadn't given him up: and I would: but they were glad to get
rid of him, I think. If you'd like to have him, he's at the door. I brought him
on purpose for you. He ain't a lady's dog, you know,« said Mr. Toots, »but you
won't mind that, will you
