fineness in accordance with his stockings, was as white as the tops

of the waves that broke upon the neighbouring beach, or the

specks of sail that glinted in the sunlight far at sea. A face

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

habitually suppressed and quieted, was still lighted up under the

quaint wig by a pair of moist bright eyes that it must have cost

their owner, in years gone by, some pains to drill to the composed

and reserved expression of Tellson’s Bank. He had a healthy

colour in his cheeks, and his face, though lined, bore few traces of

anxiety. But, perhaps the confidential bachelor clerks in Tellson’s

Bank were principally occupied with the cares of other people;

and perhaps second-hand cares, like second-hand clothes, come

easily off and on, Completing his resemblance to a man who was

sitting for his portrait, Mr. Lorry dropped off to sleep. The arrival

of his breakfast roused him, and he said to the drawer, as he

moved his chair to it:

“I wish accommodation prepared for a young lady who may

come here at any time today. She may ask for Mr. Jarvis Lorry, or

she may only ask for a gentleman from Tellson’s Bank. Please to

let me know.”

“Yes, sir. Tellson’s Bank in London, sir?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, sir. We have oftentimes the honour to entertain your

gentlemen in their travelling backwards and forwards betwixt

London and Paris, sir. A vast deal of travelling, sir, in Tellson and

Company’s House.”

“Yes. We are quite a French House, as well as an English one.”

“Yes, sir. Not much in the habit of such travelling yourself, I

think, sir?”

“Not of late years. It is fifteen years since wesince Icame

last from France.”

“Indeed, sir? That was before my time here, sir. Before our

people’s time here, sir. The George was in other hands at that

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

time, sir.”

“I believe so.”

“But I would hold a pretty wager, sir, that a House like Tellson

and Company was flourishing, a matter of fifty, not to speak of

fifteen years ago?”

“You might treble that, and say a hundred and fifty, yet not be

far from the truth.”

“Indeed, sir!”

Rounding his mouth and both his eyes, as he stepped backward

from the table, the waiter shifted his napkin from his right arm to

his left, dropping into a comfortable attitude, and stood surveying

the guest while he ate and drank, as from an observatory or watchtower.

According to the immemorial usage of waiters in all ages.

When Mr. Lorry had finished his breakfast, he went out for a

stroll on the beach. The little narrow, crooked town of Dover hid

itself away from the beach, and ran its head into the chalk cliffs,