Was there any bird in a cage, that came in for a share of his regards?
'A very young lady!' thought Mr Carker the Manager, through his song.
'Ay! when I saw her last, she was a little child.

With dark eyes and hair, I recollect, and a good face; a very good face! I daresay she's pretty.' More affable and pleasant yet, and humming his song until his many teeth vibrated to it, Mr Carker picked his way along, and turned at last into the shady street where Mr Dombey's house stood.

He had been so busy, winding webs round good faces, and obscuring them with meshes, that he hardly thought of being at this point of his ride, until, glancing down the cold perspective of tall houses, he reined in his horse quickly within a few yards of the door.

But to explain why Mr Carker reined in his horse quickly, and what he looked at in no small surprise, a few digressive words are necessary.
Mr Toots, emancipated from the Blimber thraldom and coming into the possession of a certain portion of his worldly wealth, 'which,' as he had been wont, during his last half-year's probation, to communicate to Mr Feeder every evening as a new discovery, 'the executors couldn't keep him out of' had applied himself with great diligence, to the science of Life.

Fired with a noble emulation to pursue a brilliant and distinguished career, Mr Toots had furnished a choice set of apartments; had established among them a sporting bower, embellished with the portraits of winning horses, in which he took no particle of interest; and a divan, which made him poorly.