'Certainly.'

He had been hovering about between his hat and his umbrella for a
place to write on. He now sat down in my chair, at my blotting-
paper and inkstand, with the long walk up his head in accurate
perspective before me, as I stood with my back to the fire.

Before answering each question he ran over it aloud, and discussed
it. How long had he known Mr. Alfred Beckwith? That he had to
calculate by years upon his fingers. What were his habits? No
difficulty about them; temperate in the last degree, and took a
little too much exercise, if anything. All the answers were
satisfactory. When he had written them all, he looked them over,
and finally signed them in a very pretty hand. He supposed he had
now done with the business. I told him he was not likely to be
troubled any farther. Should he leave the papers there? If he
pleased. Much obliged. Good-morning.

I had had one other visitor before him; not at the office, but at
my own house. That visitor had come to my bedside when it was not
yet daylight, and had been seen by no one else but by my faithful
confidential servant.

A second reference paper (for we required always two) was sent down
into Norfolk, and was duly received back by post. This, likewise,
was satisfactorily answered in every respect. Our forms were all
complied with; we accepted the proposal, and the premium for one
year was paid.