'It is not in my nature,' said Nicholas, moved by these appeals, 'to
resist any entreaty, unless it is to do something positively wrong; and,
beyond a feeling of pride, I know nothing which should prevent my doing
this. I know nobody here, and nobody knows me. So be it then. I yield.'

Miss Snevellicci was at once overwhelmed with blushes and expressions of
gratitude, of which latter commodity neither Mr nor Mrs Crummles was by
any means sparing. It was arranged that Nicholas should call upon her,
at her lodgings, at eleven next morning, and soon after they parted:
he to return home to his authorship: Miss Snevellicci to dress for the
after-piece: and the disinterested manager and his wife to discuss the
probable gains of the forthcoming bespeak, of which they were to have
two-thirds of the profits by solemn treaty of agreement.

At the stipulated hour next morning, Nicholas repaired to the lodgings
of Miss Snevellicci, which were in a place called Lombard Street, at
the house of a tailor. A strong smell of ironing pervaded the little
passage; and the tailor's daughter, who opened the door, appeared in
that flutter of spirits which is so often attendant upon the periodical
getting up of a family's linen.

'Miss Snevellicci lives here, I believe?' said Nicholas, when the door
was opened.

The tailor's daughter replied in the affirmative.

'Will you have the goodness to let her know that Mr Johnson is here?'
said Nicholas.