“Uriah Heep,” said Mr. Wickfield, in a monotonous forced way, “is active in the business, Trotwood. What he says, I quite concur in. You know I had an old interest in you. Apart from that, what Uriah says I quite concur in!”
“Oh, what a reward it is,” said Uriah, drawing up one leg, at the risk of bringing down upon himself another visitation from my aunt, “to be so trusted in! But I hope I am able to do something to relieve him from the fatigues of business, Master Copperfield!”
“Uriah Heep is a great relief to me,” said Mr. Wickfield, in the same dull voice. “It’s a load off my mind, Trotwood, to have such a partner.”
The red fox made him say all this, I knew, to exhibit him to me in the light he had indicated on the night when he poisoned my rest. I saw the same ill-favoured smile upon his face again, and saw how he watched me.
“You are not going, papa?” said Agnes, anxiously. “Will you not walk back with Trotwood and me?”
He would have looked to Uriah, I believe, before replying, if