“Ladies among them, I presume?” insinuated the smooth Manager.
“They are all—that is to say, they are both—ladies,” replied Mr Dombey.
“Only two?” smiled Carker.
“They are only two. I have confined my visits to their residence, and have made no other acquaintance here.”
“Sisters, perhaps?” quoth Carker.
“Mother and daughter,” replied Mr Dombey.
As Mr Dombey dropped his eyes, and adjusted his neckcloth again, the smiling face of Mr Carker the Manager became in a moment, and without any stage of transition, transformed into a most intent and frowning face, scanning his closely, and with an ugly sneer. As Mr Dombey raised his eyes, it changed back, no less quickly, to its old expression, and showed him every gum of which it stood possessed.
“You are very kind,” said Carker, “I shall be delighted to know them. Speaking of daughters, I have seen Miss Dombey.”
There was a sudden rush of blood to Mr Dombey’s face.
“I took the liberty of waiting on her,” said Carker, “to inquire if she could charge me with any little commission. I am not so fortunate as to be the bearer of any but her—but her dear love.”