'A coincidence as never was equalled! I'm blessed if here ain't
two old neighbours of ourn, sir!'
'What neighbours?' cried old Martin, looking out of window. 'Where?'
'I was a-walkin' up and down not five yards from this spot,' said Mr
Tapley, breathless, 'and they come upon me like their own ghosts, as I
thought they was! It's the wonderfulest ewent that ever happened. Bring
a feather, somebody, and knock me down with it!'
'What do you mean!' exclaimed old Martin, quite as much excited by
the spectacle of Mark's excitement as that strange person was himself.
'Neighbours, where?'
'Here, sir!' replied Mr Tapley. 'Here in the city of London! Here upon
these very stones! Here they are, sir! Don't I know 'em? Lord love their
welcome faces, don't I know 'em!'
With which ejaculations Mr Tapley not only pointed to a decent-looking
man and woman standing by, but commenced embracing them alternately,
over and over again, in Monument Yard.
'Neighbours, WHERE? old Martin shouted; almost maddened by his
ineffectual efforts to get out at the coach-door.
'Neighbours in America! Neighbours in Eden!' cried Mark.
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