You know that well enough, I daresay.

Be off! We haven't got anything for you.' 'I don't want anything, thank you,' was the timid answer.

'Except to know the way to Dombey and Son's.' The man who had been strolling carelessly towards her, seemed surprised by this reply, and looking attentively in her face, rejoined: 'Why, what can you want with Dombey and Son's ?' 'To know the way there, if you please.' The man looked at her yet more curiously, and rubbed the back of his head so hard in his wonderment that he knocked his own hat off.
'Joe!' he called to another man--a labourer--as he picked it up and put it on again.
'Joe it is!' said Joe.
'Where's that young spark of Dombey's who's been watching the shipment of them goods ?' 'Just gone, by t'other gate,' said Joe.
'Call him back a minute.' Joe ran up an archway, bawling as he went, and very soon returned with a blithe-looking boy.
'You're Dombey's jockey, ain't you ?' said the first man.
'I'm in Dombey's House, Mr Clark,' returned the boy.
'Look'ye here, then,' said Mr Clark.
Obedient to the indication of Mr Clark's hand, the boy approached towards Florence, wondering, as well he might, what he had to do with her.

But she, who had heard what passed, and who, besides the relief of so suddenly considering herself safe at her journey's end, felt reassured beyond all measure by his lively youthful face and manner, ran eagerly up to him, leaving one of the slipshod shoes upon the ground and caught his hand in both of hers.
'I am lost, if you please!' said Florence.
'Lost!' cried the boy.
'Yes, I was lost this morning, a long way from here--and I have had my clothes taken away, since--and I am not dressed in my own now--and my name is Florence Dombey, my little brother's only sister--and, oh dear, dear, take care of me, if you please!' sobbed Florence, giving full vent to the childish feelings she had so long suppressed, and bursting into tears.

At the same time her miserable bonnet falling off, her hair came tumbling down about her face: moving to speechless admiration and commiseration, young Walter, nephew of Solomon Gills, Ships' Instrument-maker in general.
Mr Clark stood rapt in amazement: observing under his breath, I never saw such a start on this wharf before.