As a grain of musk will scent a drawer for many years, and still lose nothing appreciable of its original weight, so a halfpenny-worth of ink would blot Mr Boffin to the roots of his hair and the calves of his legs, without inscribing a line on the paper before him, or appearing to diminish in the inkstand.
Mr Boffin was in such severe literary difficulties that his eyes were prominent and fixed, and his breathing was stertorous, when, to the great relief of Mrs Boffin, who observed these symptoms with alarm, the yard bell rang.
'Who's that, I wonder!' said Mrs Boffin.
Mr Boffin drew a long breath, laid down his pen, looked at his notes as doubting whether he had the pleasure of their acquaintance, and appeared, on a second perusal of their countenances, to be confirmed in his impression that he had not, when there was announced by the hammer-headed young man: 'Mr Rokesmith.' 'Oh!' said Mr Boffin.

'Oh indeed! Our and the Wilfers' Mutual Friend, my dear.Yes.Ask him to come in.' Mr Rokesmith appeared.
'Sit down, sir,' said Mr Boffin, shaking hands with him.

'Mrs Boffin you're already acquainted with.

Well, sir, I am rather unprepared to see you, for, to tell you the truth, I've been so busy with one thing and another, that I've not had time to turn your offer over.' 'That's apology for both of us: for Mr Boffin, and for me as well,' said the smiling Mrs Boffin.

'But Lor! we can talk it over now; can't us ?' Mr Rokesmith bowed, thanked her, and said he hoped so.
'Let me see then,' resumed Mr Boffin, with his hand to his chin.