should have professed to have forgotten all about the
merits of the case; but as he had read such papers as had been laid before him
in the course of the action, and had thought of nothing else, waking or
sleeping, throughout the two months during which he had been retained as Mr.
Serjeant Snubbin's junior, he turned a deeper red, and bowed again.
    »This is Mr. Pickwick,« said the Serjeant, waving his pen in the direction
in which that gentleman was standing.
    Mr. Phunky bowed to Mr. Pickwick with a reverence which a first client must
ever awaken; and again inclined his head towards his leader.
    »Perhaps you will take Mr. Pickwick away,« said the Serjeant, »and - and -
and - hear anything Mr. Pickwick may wish to communicate. We shall have a
consultation, of course.« With this hint that he had been interrupted quite long
enough, Mr. Serjeant Snubbin, who had been gradually growing more and more
abstracted, applied his glass to his eyes for an instant, bowed slightly round,
and was once more deeply immersed in the case before him: which arose out of an
interminable lawsuit, originating in the act of an individual, deceased a
century or so ago, who had stopped up a pathway leading from some place which
nobody ever came from, to some other place which nobody ever went to.
    Mr. Phunky would not hear of passing through any door until Mr. Pickwick and
his solicitor had passed through before him, so it was some time before they got
into the Square; and when they did reach it, they walked up and down, and held a
long conference, the result of which was, that it was a very difficult matter to
say how the verdict would go; that nobody could presume to calculate on the
issue of an action; that it was very lucky they had prevented the other party
from getting Serjeant Snubbin; and other topics of doubt and consolation, common
in such a position of affairs.
    Mr. Weller was then roused by his master from a sweet sleep of an hour's
duration; and, bidding adieu to Lowten, they returned to the City.
 

                                 Chapter XXXII

 Describes, Far More Fully Than the Court Newsman Ever Did, a Bachelor's Party,
            Given by Mr. Bob Sawyer at His Lodgings in the Borough.

There is a repose about Lant Street, in the Borough, which sheds a gentle
melancholy upon the soul. There are always a good many houses to let in the
street: it is a bye-street too,