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'Not yet,' said Mr. Murdstone. 'And who's this shaver?' said one of the gentlemen, taking hold of me. 'That's Davy,' returned Mr. Murdstone. 'Davy who?' said the gentleman. 'Jones?' 'Copperfield,' said Mr. Murdstone. 'What! Bewitching Mrs. Copperfield's encumbrance?' cried the gentleman. 'The pretty little widow?' 'Quinion,' said Mr. Murdstone, 'take care, if you please. Somebody's sharp.' 'Who is?' asked the gentleman, laughing. I looked up, quickly; being curious to know. 'Only Brooks of Sheffield,' said Mr. Murdstone. I was quite relieved to find that it was only Brooks of Sheffield; for, at first, I really thought it was I. There seemed to be something very comical in the reputation of Mr. Brooks of Sheffield, for both the gentlemen laughed heartily when he was mentioned, and