“I am a determined character,” said Mr. Creakle. “That’s what I am. I do my duty. That’s what I do. My flesh and blood”⁠—he looked at Mrs. Creakle as he said this⁠—“when it rises against me, is not my flesh and blood. I discard it. Has that fellow”⁠—to the man with the wooden leg⁠—“been here again?”

“No,” was the answer.

“No,” said Mr. Creakle. “He knows better. He knows me. Let him keep away. I say let him keep away,” said Mr. Creakle, striking his hand upon the table, and looking at Mrs. Creakle, “for he knows me. Now you have begun to know me too, my young friend, and you may go. Take him away.”