'
'Thankee, sir,' said Mark. 'I couldn't accommodate you if you did. A
letter, sir. Wait for an answer.'
'For me?' cried Mr Pecksniff. 'And an answer, eh?'
'Not for you, I think, sir,' said Mark, pointing out the direction.
'Chuzzlewit, I believe the name is, sir.'
'Oh!' returned Mr Pecksniff. 'Thank you. Yes. Who's it from, my good
young man?'
'The gentleman it comes from wrote his name inside, sir,' returned Mr
Tapley with extreme politeness. 'I see him a-signing of it at the end,
while I was a-waitin'.'
'And he said he wanted an answer, did he?' asked Mr Pecksniff in his
most persuasive manner.
Mark replied in the affirmative.
'He shall have an answer. Certainly,' said Mr Pecksniff, tearing the
letter into small pieces, as mildly as if that were the most flattering
attention a correspondent could receive. 'Have the goodness to give him
that, with my compliments, if you please. Good morning!' Whereupon he
handed Mark the scraps; retired, and shut the door.
Mark thought it prudent to subdue his personal emotions, and return to
Martin at the Dragon. They were not unprepared for such a reception,
and suffered an hour or so to elapse before making another attempt.
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