'
'On which you cried out, very loud, "Come in!"' suggested Tom.
'So I did. And the person who knocked, not being a respectable young
man, aged thirty-five, from the country, came in when he was invited,
instead of standing gaping and staring about him on the landing. Well!
When he came in, I found he was a stranger; a grave, business-like,
sedate-looking, stranger. "Mr Westlock?" said he. "That is my name,"
said I. "The favour of a few words with you?" said he. "Pray be seated,
sir," said I.'
Here John stopped for an instant, to glance towards the table, where
Tom's sister, listening attentively, was still busy with the basin,
which by this time made a noble appearance. Then he resumed:
'The pudding having taken a chair, Tom--'
'What!' cried Tom.
'Having taken a chair.'
'You said a pudding.'
'No, no,' replied John, colouring rather; 'a chair. The idea of a
stranger coming into my rooms at half-past eight o'clock in the morning,
and taking a pudding! Having taken a chair, Tom, a chair--amazed me by
opening the conversation thus: "I believe you are acquainted, sir, with
Mr Thomas Pinch?"
'No!' cried Tom.
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