'Well! Not many people, I believe.

I wouldn't answer perhaps,' he murmured, as if he were only thinking it, 'for more than one.' A dangerous quality, if real; and a not less dangerous one, if feigned.
But Mr Dombey hardly seemed to think so, as he still stood with his back to the fire, drawn up to his full height, and looking at his head-clerk with a dignified composure, in which there seemed to lurk a stronger latent sense of power than usual.
'Talking of Morfin,' resumed Mr Carker, taking out one paper from the rest, 'he reports a junior dead in the agency at Barbados, and proposes to reserve a passage in the Son and Heir--she'll sail in a month or so--for the successor.

You don't care who goes, I suppose?
We have nobody of that sort here.' Mr Dombey shook his head with supreme indifference.
'It's no very precious appointment,' observed Mr Carker, taking up a pen, with which to endorse a memorandum on the back of the paper.

'I hope he may bestow it on some orphan nephew of a musical friend.

It may perhaps stop his fiddle-playing, if he has a gift that way.