Descending from
politics to the subject in hand, he replied:
"Oh! fifteen dollars, of course. You will find it stated in my last
letter to you." At this moment (no one of the three observing the act),
the long-headed postmaster tipped a slight wink to Mr. Boolpin, who
returned that signal of mutual understanding.
Tiffles handed the letter to the postmaster, pointing out the figure 5.
"Can I believe my eyes?" said the postmaster. "True enough, it is a 5.
Confound my absent-mindedness in not puttin' down a 1." It may here be
said, that similar instances of mental aberration were discovered in Mr.
Persimmon's accounts toward the close of his official term.
Tiffles was staggered, as he reflected that it would take sixty full
tickets to pay the single item of rent. He had less than half a dollar
in his own pocket. Patching was, as usual, reduced to his last
five-dollar bill. Marcus had incidentally observed, a few minutes
before, that he had left his wallet at home, and had only a handful of
small silver about him. Suppose the panorama should fail on the first
night, and be detained for debt! Tiffles had not thought of that.
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