'But surely this is not the way to do the business,' Arthur Clennam

could not help saying. This airy young Barnacle was quite entertained by his simplicity in

supposing for a moment that it was. This light in hand young Barnacle

knew perfectly that it was not. This touch and go young Barnacle had

'got up' the Department in a private secretaryship, that he might

be ready for any little bit of fat that came to hand; and he fully

understood the Department to be a politico-diplomatic hocus pocus piece

of machinery for the assistance of the nobs in keeping off the

snobs. This dashing young Barnacle, in a word, was likely to become a

statesman, and to make a figure.

'When the business is regularly before that Department, whatever it is,'

pursued this bright young Barnacle, 'then you can watch it from time

to time through that Department. When it comes regularly before this

Department, then you must watch it from time to time through this

Department. We shall have to refer it right and left; and when we refer

it anywhere, then you'll have to look it up. When it comes back to us

at any time, then you had better look US up. When it sticks anywhere,

you'll have to try to give it a jog. When you write to another

Department about it, and then to this Department about it, and don't

hear anything satisfactory about it, why then you had better--keep on

writing.' Arthur Clennam looked very doubtful indeed. 'But I am obliged to you at

any rate,' said he, 'for your politeness.'

'Not at all,' replied this engaging young Barnacle. 'Try the thing, and

see how you like it. It will be in your power to give it up at any time,

if you don't like it. You had better take a lot of forms away with you.

Give him a lot of forms!' With which instruction to number two, this

sparkling young Barnacle took a fresh handful of papers from numbers one

and three, and carried them into the sanctuary to offer to the presiding

Idol of the Circumlocution Office.

Arthur Clennam put his forms in his pocket gloomily enough, and went

his way down the long stone passage and the long stone staircase. He had

come to the swing doors leading into the street, and was waiting, not

over patiently, for two people who were between him and them to pass out

and let him follow, when the voice of one of them struck familiarly on

his ear. He looked at the speaker and recognised Mr Meagles. Mr Meagles

was very red in the face--redder than travel could have made him--and

collaring a short man who was with him, said, 'come out, you rascal,

come Out!' It was such an unexpected hearing, and it was also such an unexpected

sight to see Mr Meagles burst the swing doors open, and emerge into the

street with the short man, who was of an unoffending appearance, that

Clennam stood still for the moment exchanging looks of surprise with the

porter.




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