much. Horse-dealer’s estimate, so much. Harness-maker’s estimate, so much. Goldsmith’s estimate, so much. Total, so very much. Then came correspondence. Acceptance of Mr. Boffin’s offer of such a date, and to such an effect. Rejection of Mr. Boffin’s proposal of such a date and to such an effect. Concerning Mr. Boffin’s scheme of such another date to such another effect. All compact and methodical.
“Apple-pie order!” said Mr. Boffin, after checking off each inscription with his hand, like a man beating time. “And whatever you do with your ink, I can’t think, for you’re as clean as a whistle after it. Now, as to a letter. Let’s,” said Mr. Boffin, rubbing his hands in his pleasantly childish admiration, “let’s try a letter next.”
“To whom shall it be addressed, Mr. Boffin?”
“Anyone. Yourself.”
Mr. Rokesmith quickly wrote, and then read aloud:
“ ‘