“That sort of people. Are they really animals and clods, and beings of another order? I want to know so much.”

“Why, there’s a pretty wide separation between them and us,” said Steerforth, with indifference. “They are not to be expected to be as sensitive as we are. Their delicacy is not to be shocked, or hurt easily. They are wonderfully virtuous, I dare say⁠—some people contend for that, at least; and I am sure I don’t want to contradict them⁠—but they have not very fine natures, and they may be thankful that, like their coarse rough skins, they are not easily wounded.”

“Really!” said Miss Dartle. “Well, I don’t know, now, when I have been better pleased than to hear that. It’s so consoling! It’s such a delight to know that, when they suffer, they don’t feel! Sometimes I have been quite uneasy for that sort of people; but now I shall just dismiss the idea of them, altogether. Live and learn. I had my doubts, I confess, but now they’re cleared up. I didn’t know, and now I do know, and that shows the advantage of asking⁠—don’t it?”