f.

'Morfin's here,' he answered, looking up with his widest and almost
sudden smile; 'humming musical recollections--of his last night's
quartette party, I suppose--through the walls between us, and driving
me half mad. I wish he'd make a bonfire of his violoncello, and burn his
music-books in it.'

'You respect nobody, Carker, I think,' said Mr Dombey.

'No?' inquired Carker, with another wide and most feline show of his
teeth. 'Well! Not many people, I believe. I wouldn't answer perhaps,' he
murmured, as if he were only thinking it, 'for more than one.'

A dangerous quality, if real; and a not less dangerous one, if feigned.
But Mr Dombey hardly seemed to think so, as he still stood with his back
to the fire, drawn up to his full height, and looking at his head-clerk
with a dignified composure, in which there seemed to lurk a stronger
latent sense of power than usual.

'Talking of Morfin,' resumed Mr Carker, taking out one paper from the
rest, 'he reports a junior dead in the agency at Barbados, and proposes
to reserve a passage in the Son and Heir--she'll sail in a month or
so--for the successor. You don't care who goes, I suppose? We have
nobody of that sort here.'

Mr Dombey shook his head with supreme indifference.

'It's no very precious appointment,' observed Mr Carker, taking up a
pen, with which to endorse a memorandum on the back of the paper. 'I
hope he may bestow it on some orphan nephew of a musical friend. It may
perhaps stop his fiddle-playing, if he has a gift that way. Who's that?
Come in!'

'I beg your pardon, Mr Carker. I didn't know you were here, Sir,'
answered Walter; appearing with some letters in his hand, unopened, and
newly arrived. 'Mr Carker the junior, Sir--'

At the mention of this name, Mr Carker the Manager was or affected to
be, touched to the quick with shame and humiliation. He cast his eyes
full on Mr Dombey with an altered and apologetic look, abased them on
the ground, and remained for a moment without speaking.

'I thought, Sir,' he said suddenly and angrily, turning on Walter, 'that
you had been before requested not to drag Mr Carker the Junior into your
conversation.'

'I beg your pardon,' returned Walter. 'I was only going to say that Mr
Carker the Junior had told me he believed you were gone out, or I should
not have knocked at the door when you were engaged with Mr Dombey. These
are letters for Mr Dombey, Sir.'

'Very well, Sir,' returned Mr Carker the Manager