So he advanced to fit on his black kid gloves as if he had never seen
him in all his life; while the doctor, on his part, looked as distant
and unconscious as if he had heard and read of undertakers, and had
passed their shops, but had never before been brought into communication
with one.
'Gloves, eh?' said the doctor. 'Mr Pecksniff after you.'
'I couldn't think of it,' returned Mr Pecksniff.
'You are very good,' said the doctor, taking a pair. 'Well, sir, as I
was saying--I was called up to attend that case at about half-past one
o'clock. Cake and wine, eh? Which is port? Thank you.'
Mr Pecksniff took some also.
'At about half-past one o'clock in the morning, sir,' resumed the
doctor, 'I was called up to attend that case. At the first pull of
the night-bell I turned out, threw up the window, and put out my head.
Cloak, eh? Don't tie it too tight. That'll do.'
Mr Pecksniff having been likewise inducted into a similar garment, the
doctor resumed.
'And put out my head--hat, eh? My good friend, that is not mine. Mr
Pecksniff, I beg your pardon, but I think we have unintentionally made
an exchange.
Pages:
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618