As Mr Dombey’s thoughts were evidently pursuing some other subject, his discreet ally broke off here, and stood with his teeth ready to present to him, when he should look up.
“You want somebody to send to the West Indies, you were saying,” observed Mr Dombey, hurriedly.
“Yes,” replied Carker.
“Send young Gay.”
“Good, very good indeed. Nothing easier,” said Mr Carker, without any show of surprise, and taking up the pen to re-endorse the letter, as coolly as he had done before. “‘Send young Gay.’”
“Call him back,” said Mr Dombey.
Mr Carker was quick to do so, and Walter was quick to return.
“Gay,” said Mr Dombey, turning a little to look at him over his shoulder. “Here is a—”
“An opening,” said Mr Carker, with his mouth stretched to the utmost.
“In the West Indies. At Barbados. I am going to send you,” said Mr Dombey, scorning to embellish the bare truth, “to fill a junior situation in the counting-house at Barbados. Let your Uncle know from me, that I have chosen you to go to the West Indies.”