His friends were all dispersed about the room except the stony friend, who remained immoveable.

Mr Feeder was stretching himself in his grey gown, as if, regardless of expense, he were resolved to pull the sleeves off.
'Heigh ho hum!' cried Mr Feeder, shaking himself like a cart-horse.

'Oh dear me, dear me! Ya-a-a-ah!' Paul was quite alarmed by Mr Feeder's yawning; it was done on such a great scale, and he was so terribly in earnest.

All the boys too (Toots excepted) seemed knocked up, and were getting ready for dinner--some newly tying their neckcloths, which were very stiff indeed; and others washing their hands or brushing their hair, in an adjoining ante-chamber--as if they didn't think they should enjoy it at all.
Young Toots who was ready beforehand, and had therefore nothing to do, and had leisure to bestow upon Paul, said, with heavy good nature: 'Sit down, Dombey.' 'Thank you, Sir,' said Paul.
His endeavouring to hoist himself on to a very high window-seat, and his slipping down again, appeared to prepare Toots's mind for the reception of a discovery.
'You're a very small chap;' said Mr Toots.
'Yes, Sir, I'm small,' returned Paul.

'Thank you, Sir.' For Toots had lifted him into the seat, and done it kindly too.
'Who's your tailor ?' inquired Toots, after looking at him for some moments.
'It's a woman that has made my clothes as yet,' said Paul.