'Well, I tell you what. Look here. You had better try the Secretarial

Department,' he said at last, sidling to the bell and ringing it.

'Jenkinson,' to the mashed potatoes messenger, 'Mr Wobbler!'

Arthur Clennam, who now felt that he had devoted himself to the storming

of the Circumlocution Office, and must go through with it, accompanied

the messenger to another floor of the building, where that functionary

pointed out Mr Wobbler's room. He entered that apartment, and found two

gentlemen sitting face to face at a large and easy desk, one of whom was

polishing a gun-barrel on his pocket-handkerchief, while the other was

spreading marmalade on bread with a paper-knife. 'Mr Wobbler?' inquired the suitor. Both gentlemen glanced at him, and seemed surprised at his assurance.

'So he went,' said the gentleman with the gun-barrel, who was an

extremely deliberate speaker, 'down to his cousin's place, and took the

Dog with him by rail. Inestimable Dog. Flew at the porter fellow when he

was put into the dog-box, and flew at the guard when he was taken out.

He got half-a-dozen fellows into a Barn, and a good supply of Rats, and

timed the Dog. Finding the Dog able to do it immensely, made the match,

and heavily backed the Dog. When the match came off, some devil of

a fellow was bought over, Sir, Dog was made drunk, Dog's master was

cleaned out.' 'Mr Wobbler?' inquired the suitor.

The gentleman who was spreading the marmalade returned, without looking

up from that occupation, 'What did he call the Dog?'

'Called him Lovely,' said the other gentleman. 'Said the Dog was the

perfect picture of the old aunt from whom he had expectations. Found him

particularly like her when hocussed.' 'Mr Wobbler?' said the suitor.

Both gentlemen laughed for some time. The gentleman with the gun-barrel,

considering it, on inspection, in a satisfactory state, referred it to

the other; receiving confirmation of his views, he fitted it into its

place in the case before him, and took out the stock and polished that,

softly whistling. 'Mr Wobbler?' said the suitor. 'What's the matter?' then said Mr Wobbler, with his mouth full. 'I want to know--' and Arthur Clennam again mechanically set forth what

he wanted to know. 'Can't inform you,' observed Mr Wobbler, apparently to his lunch. 'Never

heard of it. Nothing at all to do with it. Better try Mr Clive, second

door on the left in the next passage.'

'Perhaps he will give me the same answer.' 'Very likely. Don't know anything about it,' said Mr Wobbler. The suitor turned away and had left the room, when the gentleman with

the gun called out 'Mister! Hallo!' He looked in again.




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024