"Who married the kitchen-stuff?" shouted a small voice at the door, and Mrs Gross angrily waddled out in pursuit, to the great delight of half a score of the small inhabitants of Serle's-place, one of whom danced a defiant _pas seul_ in a tray of rusty keys as he fled, laughing the while at the fat threatening hand held up. But Isaac stirred not, from having been accustomed to the gibes of the juveniles of the place, and his skin being too thick for such banderillos as "Waxy," "Welty," or "Strap-oil," to penetrate, so he merely stood wiping his nose upon his leather apron till his partner returned. "Is it deeds?" whispered Mrs Gross again, and then in a parenthesis, "Drat them boys!" "No," said Matt gruffly, "it ain't." "Then it's bank-bills," said the lady mysteriously, as she slily winked at everyone in turn, her husband smiling at her acute business perceptions. "No, nor it ain't them neither," said Matt. "Then it's a will," said Mrs Gross in a disappointed tone; "and there ain't a scrap of that sort in the place, for I sold out last week." "'Tain't a will, I tell you," growled Matt. "Then it's dockymens," said Mrs Gross triumphantly, and she nudged Matt in the side. "No it ain't; nor receipts, nor letters, nor nothing of the kind. If you must know, it's them old doctor's books; that's what it is. Now, where are they?" But Mrs Gross, though she had not the slightest idea as to what doctor's books were meant, was not yet satisfied, but cried: "Halves!" "What's halves?" said Matt. "Why, we goes halves in what turns up," said Mrs Gross, who had a famous eye for business, though she would keep dimming its... _Some lines missing here from the scans_. "Gross!" cried a sepulchral voice, which made Septimus start, till he found that it had proceeded from Mr Isaac himself, though his face did not betray that he had spoken. "Gross, then," growled Matt. "Now look here," he continued; "it's nothing but an old entry as I once saw in some doctor's books on your counter here, and we want to see it; for I hadn't sense then to know it was any good; but if we find it, and it's what we want, my guv'nor here will stand a sovereign, I dessay." "Put it down on paper, then," said Isaac, "and make him sign;" to the great admiration of his partner, who patted him upon the back for his display of business ability; and then, before a paper was touched, Septimus Hardon, greatly to Matt's disgust, signed a promissory and conditional note for the amount named. "Ikey," growled Matt, "I didn't think you had been such a Jew. If you haven't let my rooms, you can get yourself a fresh tenant."