You heard nothing but the rapid scratching of their pens against the parchment and paper on which they were employed.

When Mr.Moncton entered the office, a short, stout, middle-aged man swung himself round on his high stool and fronted us; but the moment he recognized his superior, he rose respectfully to receive him.
Mr.Moncton took him apart, and they entered into a deep and earnest conversation: of which, I am certain, from the significant glances which, from time to time, they directed towards me, I formed the principal topic.
At length the conference was over, and my uncle left the office without giving me a parting word or glance.

When he was fairly out of hearing, all the clerks gathered round me.
"Who is he ?" "Mr.Moncton's nephew," was the short man's reply to the eager questioners.
"Is he sent here to be a spy ?" "To learn the profession." "_That babe!_ Is the man mad.

It will kill the child to chain _him_ to the desk all day." "Poor fellow; he is the orphan son of his brother," said another.

"I have seen him at church with Mrs.Moncton." "Well, Robert Moncton is a hard man," said a third.
"Hush! gentlemen," interposed Mr.Bassett, the senior clerk.