'You see,' returned Mr Boffin, with a confidential sense of dignity, 'as
to my literary man's duties, they're clear. Professionally he declines
and he falls, and as a friend he drops into poetry.'

Without observing that these duties seemed by no means clear to Mr
Rokesmith's astonished comprehension, Mr Boffin went on:

'And now, sir, I'll wish you good-day. You can call at the Bower any
time in a week or two. It's not above a mile or so from you, and your
landlord can direct you to it. But as he may not know it by it's new
name of Boffin's Bower, say, when you inquire of him, it's Harmon's;
will you?'

'Harmoon's,' repeated Mr Rokesmith, seeming to have caught the sound
imperfectly, 'Harmarn's. How do you spell it?'

'Why, as to the spelling of it,' returned Mr Boffin, with great presence
of mind, 'that's YOUR look out. Harmon's is all you've got to say to
HIM. Morning, morning, morning!' And so departed, without looking back.



Chapter 9

MR AND MRS BOFFIN IN CONSULTATION


Betaking himself straight homeward, Mr Boffin, without further let or
hindrance, arrived at the Bower, and gave Mrs Boffin (in a walking dress
of black velvet and feathers, like a mourning coach-horse) an account of