Friend Rawdon drove on then to Mr. Moss's mansion in Cursitor Street, and was duly inducted into that dismal place of hospitality. Morning was breaking over the cheerful house-tops of Chancery Lane as the rattling cab woke up the echoes there. A little pink-eyed Jew-boy, with a head as ruddy as the rising morn, let the party into the house, and Rawdon was welcomed to the ground-floor apartments by Mr. Moss, his travelling companion and host, who cheerfully asked him if he would like a glass of something warm after his drive.

Rawdon drove on to Mr. Moss the bailiff's mansion in Cursitor Street, and was duly introduced into that dismal place. Morning was breaking over the house-tops of Chancery Lane as the rattling cab woke up the echoes there. Rawdon was welcomed in by Mr. Moss, his travelling companion and host, who cheerfully asked him if he would like a glass of something warm after his drive.
