"Come in!" Mr. Vavasor had cried when John Grey disturbed his slumber by knocking at the door. "I'm glad to see you,--very. Sit down; won't you? Did you ever see such a wretched fire? The coals they give you in this place are the worst in all London. Did you ever see such coals?" And he gave a wicked poke at the fire.
It was now the 1st of May, and Grey, who had walked from Suffolk Street, was quite warm. "One hardly wants a fire at all, such weather as this," he said.

"Come in!" Mr. Vavasor cried. "I'm glad to see you. Sit down. Did you ever see such a wretched fire? 