benefit on him. I might have known as much at first, knowing you. My dear kind Steerforth, how can I tell you what I think of your generosity?”
“Tush!” he answered, turning red. “The less said, the better.”
“Didn’t I know?” cried I, “didn’t I say that there was not a joy, or sorrow, or any emotion of such honest hearts that was indifferent to you?”
“Aye, aye,” he answered, “you told me all that. There let it rest. We have said enough!”
Afraid of offending him by pursuing the subject when he made so light of it, I only pursued it in my thoughts as we went on at even a quicker pace than before.
“She must be newly rigged,” said Steerforth, “and I shall leave Littimer behind to see it done, that I may know