Our Mutual Friend - The Original Classic Edition. Dickens Charles

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       'Your friend, you know.'

       'I know,' he replied, again with dignity.

       After hearing, in a mist through which Mr Inspector loomed vague and large, that the officer took upon himself to prepare the dead man's daughter for what had befallen in the night, and generally that he took everything upon himself, Mortimer Lightwood stumbled in his sleep to a cab-stand, called a cab, and had entered the army and committed a capital military offence and been tried by court martial and found guilty and had arranged his affairs and been marched out to be shot, before the door banged.

       Hard work rowing the cab through the City to the Temple, for a cup of from five to ten thousand pounds value, given by Mr Bof-fin; and hard work holding forth at that immeasurable length to Eugene (when he had been rescued with a rope from the running pavement) for making off in that extraordinary manner! But he offered such ample apologies, and was so very penitent, that when Lightwood got out of the cab, he gave the driver a particular charge to be careful of him. Which the driver (knowing there was no other fare left inside) stared at prodigiously.

       In short, the night's work had so exhausted and worn out this actor in it, that he had become a mere somnambulist. He was too tired to rest in his sleep, until he was even tired out of being too tired, and dropped into oblivion. Late in the afternoon he awoke, and in

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       some anxiety sent round to Eugene's lodging hard by, to inquire if he were up yet?

       Oh yes, he was up. In fact, he had not been to bed. He had just come home. And here he was, close following on the heels of the message.

       'Why what bloodshot, draggled, dishevelled spectacle is this!' cried Mortimer.

       'Are my feathers so very much rumpled?' said Eugene, coolly going up to the looking-glass. They ARE rather out of sorts. But con-

       sider. Such a night for plumage!'

       'Such a night?' repeated Mortimer. 'What became of you in the morning?'

       'My dear fellow,' said Eugene, sitting on his bed, 'I felt that we had bored one another so long, that an unbroken continuance of those relations must inevitably terminate in our flying to opposite points of the earth. I also felt that I had committed every crime in the Newgate Calendar. So, for mingled considerations of friendship and felony, I took a walk.'

       Chapter 15

       TWO NEW SERVANTS

       Mr and Mrs Boffin sat after breakfast, in the Bower, a prey to prosperity. Mr Boffin's face denoted Care and Complication. Many disordered papers were before him, and he looked at them about as hopefully as an innocent civilian might look at a crowd of troops whom he was required at five minutes' notice to manoeuvre and review. He had been engaged in some attempts to make notes of these papers; but being troubled (as men of his stamp often are) with an exceedingly distrustful and corrective thumb, that busy member had so often interposed to smear his notes, that they were little more legible than the various impressions of itself; which blurred his nose and forehead. It is curious to consider, in such a case as Mr Boffin's, what a cheap article ink is, and how far it may

       be made to go. As a grain of musk will scent a drawer for many years, and still lose nothing appreciable of its original weight, so

       a halfpenny-worth of ink would blot Mr Boffin to the roots of his hair and the calves of his legs, without inscribing a line on the

       paper before him, or appearing to diminish in the inkstand.

       Mr Boffin was in such severe literary difficulties that his eyes were prominent and fixed, and his breathing was stertorous, when, to the great relief of Mrs Boffin, who observed these symptoms with alarm, the yard bell rang.

       'Who's that, I wonder!' said Mrs Boffin.

       Mr Boffin drew a long breath, laid down his pen, looked at his notes as doubting whether he had the pleasure of their acquaintance, and appeared, on a second perusal of their countenances, to be confirmed in his impression that he had not, when there was announced by the hammer-headed young man:

       'Mr Rokesmith.'

       'Oh!' said Mr Boffin. 'Oh indeed! Our and the Wilfers' Mutual Friend, my dear. Yes. Ask him to come in.'

       Mr Rokesmith appeared.

       'Sit down, sir,' said Mr Boffin, shaking hands with him. 'Mrs Boffin you're already acquainted with. Well, sir, I am rather unprepared

       to see you, for, to tell you the truth, I've been so busy with one thing and another, that I've not had time to turn your offer over.'

       'That's apology for both of us: for Mr Boffin, and for me as well,' said the smiling Mrs Boffin. 'But Lor! we can talk it over now;

       can't us?'

       Mr Rokesmith bowed, thanked her, and said he hoped so.

       'Let me see then,' resumed Mr Boffin, with his hand to his chin. 'It was Secretary that you named; wasn't it?'

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       'I said Secretary,' assented Mr Rokesmith.

       'It rather puzzled me at the time,' said Mr Boffin, 'and it rather puzzled me and Mrs Boffin when we spoke of it afterwards, because (not to make a mystery of our belief) we have always believed a Secretary to be a piece of furniture, mostly of mahogany, lined with green baize or leather, with a lot of little drawers in it. Now, you won't think I take a liberty when I mention that you certainly ain't THAT.'

       Certainly not, said Mr Rokesmith. But he had used the word in the sense of Steward.

       'Why, as to Steward, you see,' returned Mr Boffin, with his hand still to his chin, 'the odds are that Mrs Boffin and me may never go upon the water. Being both bad sailors, we should want a Steward if we did; but there's generally one provided.'

       Mr Rokesmith again explained; defining the duties he sought to undertake, as those of general superintendent, or manager, or overlooker, or man of business.

       'Now, for instance--come!' said Mr Boffin, in his pouncing way. 'If you entered my employment, what would you do?'

       'I would keep exact accounts of all the expenditure you sanctioned, Mr Boffin. I would write your letters, under your direction. I would transact your business with people in your pay or employment. I would,' with a glance and a half-smile at the table, 'arrange your papers--'

       Mr Boffin rubbed his inky ear, and looked at his wife.

       '--And so arrange them as to have them always in order for immediate reference, with a note of the contents of each outside it.'

       'I tell you what,' said Mr Boffin, slowly crumpling his own blotted note in his hand; 'if you'll turn to at these present papers, and see

       what you can make of 'em, I shall know better what I can make of you.'

       No sooner said than done. Relinquishing his hat and gloves, Mr Rokesmith sat down quietly at the table, arranged the open papers into an orderly heap, cast his eyes over each in succession, folded it, docketed it on the outside, laid it in a second heap, and, when that second heap was complete and the first gone, took from his pocket a piece of string and tied it together with a remarkably dexterous hand at a running curve and a loop.

       'Good!' said Mr Boffin. 'Very good! СКАЧАТЬ