Venus was punctual, and Wegg undertook to knock at the door, and conduct the conference. Door knocked at. Door opened.
“Boffin at home?”
The servant replied that Mr Boffin was at home.
“He’ll do,” said Wegg, “though it ain’t what I call him.”
The servant inquired if they had any appointment?
“Now, I tell you what, young fellow,” said Wegg, “I won’t have it. This won’t do for me. I don’t want menials. I want Boffin.”
They were shown into a waiting-room, where the all-powerful Wegg wore his hat, and whistled, and with his forefinger stirred up a clock that stood upon the chimneypiece, until he made it strike. In a few minutes they were shown upstairs into what used to be Boffin’s room; which, besides the door of entrance, had folding-doors in it, to make it one of a suite of rooms when occasion required. Here, Boffin was seated at a library-table,