BOOK THE THIRD: A LONG LANE
Chapter 15: The Golden Dustman at His Worst (continued)
'How do you reconcile that, with this young lady's being a weak-
spirited, improvident idiot, not knowing what was due to herself,
flinging up her money to the church-weathercocks, and racing off
at a splitting pace for the workhouse?'
'I don't understand you.'
'Don't you? Or won't you? What else could you have made this
young lady out to be, if she had listened to such addresses as
yours?'
'What else, if I had been so happy as to win her affections and
possess her heart?'
'Win her affections,' retorted Mr Boffin, with ineffable contempt,
'and possess her heart! Mew says the cat, Quack-quack says the
duck, Bow-wow-wow says the dog! Win her affections and
possess her heart! Mew, Quack-quack, Bow-wow!'
John Rokesmith stared at him in his outburst, as if with some faint
idea that he had gone mad.
'What is due to this young lady,' said Mr Boffin, 'is Money, and
this young lady right well knows it.'
'You slander the young lady.'
'YOU slander the young lady; you with your affections and hearts
and trumpery,' returned Mr Boffin. 'It's of a piece with the rest of
your behaviour. I heard of these doings of yours only last night, or
you should have heard of 'em from me, sooner, take your oath of it.
I heard of 'em from a lady with as good a headpiece as the best,
and she knows this young lady, and I know this young lady, and
we all three know that it's Money she makes a stand for--money,
money, money--and that you and your affections and hearts are a
Lie, sir!'
'Mrs Boffin,' said Rokesmith, quietly turning to her, 'for your
delicate and unvarying kindness I thank you with the warmest
gratitude. Good-bye! Miss Wilfer, good-bye!'
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