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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

"Barnaby Rudge: a tale of the Riots of 'eighty"


'In the first place, sir,' said Mr Tappertit, producing a small
pocket-handkerchief and shaking it out of the folds, 'as I have not
a card about me (for the envy of masters debases us below that level)
allow me to offer the best substitute that circumstances will admit of.
If you will take that in your own hand, sir, and cast your eye on the
right-hand corner,' said Mr Tappertit, offering it with a graceful air,
'you will meet with my credentials.'
'Thank you,' answered Mr Chester, politely accepting it, and turning to
some blood-red characters at one end. '"Four. Simon Tappertit. One." Is
that the--'
'Without the numbers, sir, that is my name,' replied the 'prentice.
'They are merely intended as directions to the washerwoman, and have no
connection with myself or family. YOUR name, sir,' said Mr Tappertit,
looking very hard at his nightcap, 'is Chester, I suppose? You needn't
pull it off, sir, thank you. I observe E. C. from here. We will take the
rest for granted.'
'Pray, Mr Tappertit,' said Mr Chester, 'has that complicated piece of
ironmongery which you have done me the favour to bring with you, any
immediate connection with the business we are to discuss?'
'It has not, sir,' rejoined the 'prentice.


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