'Don't be frightened,' said Bailey. 'There ain't nothing the matter.
I've brought home Mr Chuzzlewit. He ain't ill. He's only a little
swipey, you know.' Mr Bailey reeled in his boots, to express
intoxication.
'Have you come from Mrs Todgers's?' asked Merry, trembling.
'Todgers's, bless you! No!' cried Mr Bailey. 'I haven't got nothin, to
do with Todgers's. I cut that connection long ago. He's been a-dining
with my governor at the west-end. Didn't you know he was a-coming to see
us?'
'No,' she said, faintly.
'Oh yes! We're heavy swells too, and so I tell you. Don't you come out,
a-catching cold in your head. I'll wake him!' Mr Bailey expressing in
his demeanour a perfect confidence that he could carry him in with ease,
if necessary, opened the coach door, let down the steps, and giving
Jonas a shake, cried 'We've got home, my flower! Tumble up, then!'
He was so far recovered as to be able to respond to this appeal, and
to come stumbling out of the coach in a heap, to the great hazard of Mr
Bailey's person. When he got upon the pavement, Mr Bailey first butted
at him in front, and then dexterously propped him up behind; and having
steadied him by these means, he assisted him into the house.
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