“Don’t be distressed, Miss Wilfer; it matters very little now.”
“Ah! You can’t deny it, though!” said Mr. Boffin, with a knowing shake of his head.
“But I have asked him to forgive me since,” cried Bella; “and I would ask him to forgive me now again, upon my knees, if it would spare him!”
Here Mrs. Boffin broke out a-crying.
“Old lady,” said Mr. Boffin, “stop that noise! Tenderhearted in you, Miss Bella; but I mean to have it out right through with this young man, having got him into a corner. Now, you Rokesmith. I tell you that’s one side of your conduct—insolence and presumption. Now, I’m a-coming to the other, which is much worse. This was a speculation of yours.”
“I indignantly deny it.”
“It’s of no use your denying it; it doesn’t signify a bit whether you deny it or not; I’ve got a head upon my shoulders, and it ain’t a baby’s. What!” said Mr. Boffin, gathering himself together in his most suspicious attitude, and wrinkling his face into a very map of curves and corners. “Don’t I know what grabs are made at a man with money? If I didn’t keep my eyes open, and my pockets buttoned, shouldn’t I be brought to the workhouse before I knew where I was? Wasn’t the experience of Dancer, and Elwes, and Hopkins, and Blewbury Jones, and ever so many more of ’em, similar to mine? Didn’t everybody want to make grabs at what they’d got, and bring ’em to poverty and ruin? Weren’t they forced to hide everything belonging to ’em, for fear it should be snatched from ’em? Of course they was. I shall be told next that they didn’t know human natur!”
“They! Poor creatures,” murmured the Secretary.
“What do you say?” asked Mr. Boffin, snapping at him. “However, you needn’t be at the trouble of repeating it, for it ain’t worth hearing,