At length he asked him whether, if the young lady
were still in London, he thought he could contrive to deliver a letter
to her secretly.
'Do I think I can?' cried Mark. 'THINK I can? Here, sit down, sir. Write
it out, sir!'
With that he cleared the table by the summary process of tilting
everything upon it into the fireplace; snatched some writing materials
from the mantel-shelf; set Martin's chair before them; forced him down
into it; dipped a pen into the ink; and put it in his hand.
'Cut away, sir!' cried Mark. 'Make it strong, sir. Let it be wery
pinted, sir. Do I think so? I should think so. Go to work, sir!'
Martin required no further adjuration, but went to work at a great rate;
while Mr Tapley, installing himself without any more formalities into
the functions of his valet and general attendant, divested himself
of his coat, and went on to clear the fireplace and arrange the room;
talking to himself in a low voice the whole time.
'Jolly sort of lodgings,' said Mark, rubbing his nose with the knob at
the end of the fire-shovel, and looking round the poor chamber; 'that's
a comfort.
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