‘“Remaining always, &c. &c., WILKINS MICAWBER.”’

Much affected, but still intensely enjoying himself, Mr. Micawber folded up his letter, and handed it with a bow to my aunt, as something she might like to keep.

There was, as I had noticed on my first visit long ago, an iron safe in the room. The key was in it. A hasty suspicion seemed to strike Uriah; and, with a glance at Mr. Micawber, he went to it, and threw the doors clanking open. It was empty.

‘Where are the books?’ he cried, with a frightful face. ‘Some thief has stolen the books!’

Mr. Micawber tapped himself with the ruler. ‘I did, when I got the key from you as usual — but a little earlier — and opened it this morning.’