“No, Hippetts, no,” said the doctor, in the tone and manner of one making an inquiry about some ordinary article of merchandise; “got any boys?”
“Boys, sir; the house swarms with them.”
“Ah, well, show me some.”
“Show you some, sir?”
“Yes. I want a boy.”
“Certainly, sir. This way, sir. About what age, sir!”
“Eleven or twelve—not particular,” said the doctor. Then to himself: “About the age of young Danby.”
“I see, sir,” said the master. “Stout, strong, useful boy for a buttons.”
“Nonsense!” said the doctor testily, “I want a boy to adopt.”
“Oh!” said the master staring, and wondering whether rich philosophical Dr Grayson was in his right mind.