“There’ll shortly be an end of you ,” said Wegg, threatening it with the hatbox. “ Your varnish is fading.”
Mrs. Boffin descended and went in.
“Look out for a fall, my Lady Dustwoman,” said Wegg.
Bella lightly descended, and ran in after her.
“How brisk we are!” said Wegg. “You won’t run so gaily to your old shabby home, my girl. You’ll have to go there, though.”
A little while, and the Secretary came out.
“I was passed over for you,” said Wegg. “But you had better provide yourself with another situation, young man.”
Mr. Boffin’s shadow passed upon the blinds of three large windows as he trotted down the room, and passed again as he went back.
“Yoop!” cried Wegg. “You’re there, are you? Where’s the bottle? You would give your bottle for my box, Dustman!”
Having now composed his mind for slumber, he turned homeward. Such was the greed of the fellow, that his mind had shot beyond halves, two-thirds, three-fourths, and gone straight to spoliation of the whole. “Though that wouldn’t quite do,” he considered, growing cooler as he got away. “That’s what would happen to him if he didn’t buy us up. We should get nothing by that.”
We so judge others by ourselves, that it had never come into his head before, that he might not buy us up, and might prove honest, and prefer to be poor. It caused him a slight tremor as it passed; but a very slight one, for the idle thought was gone directly.