'
'Why, there,' David was obliged to confess, 'you had the advantage of
me, I admit. But I don't put myself on a level with you. I only want a
little credit in the business.'
'All the credit you deserve to have,' said Tigg.
'The plain work of the company, David--figures, books, circulars,
advertisements, pen, ink, and paper, sealing-wax and wafers--is
admirably done by you. You are a first-rate groveller. I don't dispute
it. But the ornamental department, David; the inventive and poetical
department--'
'Is entirely yours,' said his friend. 'No question of it. But with such
a swell turnout as this, and all the handsome things you've got about
you, and the life you lead, I mean to say it's a precious comfortable
department too.'
'Does it gain the purpose? Is it Anglo-Bengalee?' asked Tigg.
'Yes,' said David.
'Could you undertake it yourself?' demanded Tigg.
'No,' said David.
'Ha, ha!' laughed Tigg. 'Then be contented with your station and
your profits, David, my fine fellow, and bless the day that made us
acquainted across the counter of our common uncle, for it was a golden
day to you.
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