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‘
What
do
you
want
?
’
‘
Please
,
sir
,
can
you
tell
me
which
gentleman
of
your
party
wears
a
bright
blue
dress
-
coat
,
with
a
gilt
button
with
"
P
.
C
.
"
on
it
?
’
‘
It
’
s
been
given
out
to
brush
,
’
thought
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
‘
and
the
man
has
forgotten
whom
it
belongs
to
.
’
‘
Mr
.
Winkle
,
‘
he
called
out
,
‘
next
room
but
two
,
on
the
right
hand
.
’
‘
Thank
’
ee
,
sir
,
’
said
the
Boots
,
and
away
he
went
.
‘
What
’
s
the
matter
?
’
cried
Mr
.
Tupman
,
as
a
loud
knocking
at
his
door
roused
hint
from
his
oblivious
repose
.
‘
Can
I
speak
to
Mr
.
Winkle
,
sir
?
’
replied
Boots
from
the
outside
.
‘
Winkle
—
Winkle
!
’
shouted
Mr
.
Tupman
,
calling
into
the
inner
room
.
‘
Hollo
!
’
replied
a
faint
voice
from
within
the
bed
-
clothes
.
‘
You
’
re
wanted
—
some
one
at
the
door
;
’
and
,
having
exerted
himself
to
articulate
thus
much
,
Mr
.
Tracy
Tupman
turned
round
and
fell
fast
asleep
again
.
‘
Wanted
!
’
said
Mr
.
Winkle
,
hastily
jumping
out
of
bed
,
and
putting
on
a
few
articles
of
clothing
;
‘
wanted
!
at
this
distance
from
town
—
who
on
earth
can
want
me
?
’
‘
Gentleman
in
the
coffee
-
room
,
sir
,
’
replied
the
Boots
,
as
Mr
.
Winkle
opened
the
door
and
confronted
him
;
‘
gentleman
says
he
’
ll
not
detain
you
a
moment
,
Sir
,
but
he
can
take
no
denial
.
’
‘
Very
odd
!
’
said
Mr
.
Winkle
;
‘
I
’
ll
be
down
directly
.
’
