He jerked himself about, after this compliment, in such an intolerable manner, that my aunt, who had sat looking straight at him, lost all patience.

“Deuce take the man!” said my aunt, sternly, “what’s he about? Don’t be galvanic, sir!”

“I ask your pardon, Miss Trotwood,” returned Uriah; “I’m aware you’re nervous.”

“Go along with you, sir!” said my aunt, anything but appeased. “Don’t presume to say so! I am nothing of the sort. If you’re an eel, sir, conduct yourself like one. If you’re a man, control your limbs, sir! Good God!” said my aunt, with great indignation, “I am not going to be serpentined and corkscrewed out of my senses!”

Mr. Heep was rather abashed, as most people might have been, by this explosion; which derived great additional force from the indignant manner in which my aunt afterwards moved in her chair, and shook her head as if she were making snaps or bounces at him. But he said to me aside in a meek voice: