During the last few minutes, Mrs. Heep had been clamouring to her son to be “ ’umble”; and had been going down on her knees to all of us in succession, and making the wildest promises. Her son sat her down in his chair; and, standing sulkily by her, holding her arm with his hand, but not rudely, said to me, with a ferocious look:

“What do you want done?”

“I will tell you what must be done,” said Traddles.

“Has that Copperfield no tongue?” muttered Uriah, “I would do a good deal for you if you could tell me, without lying, that somebody had cut it out.”

“My Uriah means to be ’umble!” cried his mother. “Don’t mind what he says, good gentlemen!”

“What must be done,” said Traddles, “is this. First, the deed of relinquishment, that we have heard of, must be given over to me now⁠—here.”