'Yes, I will!' cried Mark, 'another--one more--twenty more! You
didn't know me in that hat and coat? I thought you would have known me
anywheres! Ten more!'
'So I should have known you, if I could have seen you; but I couldn't,
and you spoke so gruff. I didn't think you could speak gruff to me,
Mark, at first coming back.'
'Fifteen more!' said Mr Tapley. 'How handsome and how young you look!
Six more! The last half-dozen warn't a fair one, and must be done over
again. Lord bless you, what a treat it is to see you! One more! Well, I
never was so jolly. Just a few more, on account of there not being any
credit in it!'
When Mr Tapley stopped in these calculations in simple addition, he did
it, not because he was at all tired of the exercise, but because he was
out of breath. The pause reminded him of other duties.
'Mr Martin Chuzzlewit's outside,' he said. 'I left him under the
cartshed, while I came on to see if there was anybody here. We want to
keep quiet to-night, till we know the news from you, and what it's best
for us to do.'
'There's not a soul in the house, except the kitchen company,' returned
the hostess.
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