Sealed with a kiss
IT’S one of those Dickensian passages that conjures up exactly how we envisage Victorian jollity at Christmas: ‘From the centre of the ceiling, old Wardle had just suspended with his own hands a huge bunch of mistletoe, and this same branch of mistletoe instantaneously gave rise to a scene of general and most delightful struggling and confusion, in the midst of which Mr Pickwick, with a gallantry that would have done honour to a descendant of Lady Tollimglower herself, took the old lady by the hand,
