THE ESSENTIAL DICKENS – 8 Greatest Novels in One Edition. Charles Dickens

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THE ESSENTIAL DICKENS – 8 Greatest Novels in One Edition - Charles Dickens

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whatever the result is. Whether that species of benevolence which is so very cautious and long-sighted that it is seldom exercised at all, lest its owner should be imposed upon, and so wounded in his self-love, be real charity or a worldly counterfeit, I leave to wiser heads than mine to determine. But if those two fellows were to commit a burglary tomorrow, my opinion of this action would be equally high.’

      With these remarks, which were delivered in a much more animated and earnest manner than is usual in legal gentlemen, Perker drew his chair to his desk, and listened to Mr. Pickwick’s recital of old Mr. Winkle’s obstinacy.

      ‘Give him a week,’ said Perker, nodding his head prophetically.

      ‘Do you think he will come round?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick.

      ‘I think he will,’ rejoined Perker. ‘If not, we must try the young lady’s persuasion; and that is what anybody but you would have done at first.’

      Mr. Perker was taking a pinch of snuff with various grotesque contractions of countenance, eulogistic of the persuasive powers appertaining unto young ladies, when the murmur of inquiry and answer was heard in the outer office, and Lowten tapped at the door.

      ‘Come in!’ cried the little man.

      The clerk came in, and shut the door after him, with great mystery.

      ‘What’s the matter?’ inquired Perker.

      ‘You’re wanted, Sir.’

      ‘Who wants me?’

      Lowten looked at Mr. Pickwick, and coughed.

      ‘Who wants me? Can’t you speak, Mr. Lowten?’

      ‘Why, sir,’ replied Lowten, ‘it’s Dodson; and Fogg is with him.’

      ‘Bless my life!’ said the little man, looking at his watch, ‘I appointed them to be here at half-past eleven, to settle that matter of yours, Pickwick. I gave them an undertaking on which they sent down your discharge; it’s very awkward, my dear Sir; what will you do? Would you like to step into the next room?’

      The next room being the identical room in which Messrs. Dodson & Fogg were, Mr. Pickwick replied that he would remain where he was: the more especially as Messrs. Dodson & Fogg ought to be ashamed to look him in the face, instead of his being ashamed to see them. Which latter circumstance he begged Mr. Perker to note, with a glowing countenance and many marks of indignation.

      ‘Very well, my dear Sir, very well,’ replied Perker, ‘I can only say that if you expect either Dodson or Fogg to exhibit any symptom of shame or confusion at having to look you, or anybody else, in the face, you are the most sanguine man in your expectations that I ever met with. Show them in, Mr. Lowten.’

      Mr. Lowten disappeared with a grin, and immediately returned ushering in the firm, in due form of precedence — Dodson first, and Fogg afterwards.

      ‘You have seen Mr. Pickwick, I believe?’ said Perker to Dodson, inclining his pen in the direction where that gentleman was seated.

      ‘How do you do, Mr. Pickwick?’ said Dodson, in a loud voice.

      ‘Dear me,’cried Fogg, ‘how do you do, Mr. Pickwick? I hope you are well, Sir. I thought I knew the face,’ said Fogg, drawing up a chair, and looking round him with a smile.

      Mr. Pickwick bent his head very slightly, in answer to these salutations, and, seeing Fogg pull a bundle of papers from his coat pocket, rose and walked to the window.

      ‘There’s no occasion for Mr. Pickwick to move, Mr. Perker,’ said Fogg, untying the red tape which encircled the little bundle, and smiling again more sweetly than before. ‘Mr. Pickwick is pretty well acquainted with these proceedings. There are no secrets between us, I think. He! he! he!’

      ‘Not many, I think,’ said Dodson. ‘Ha! ha! ha!’ Then both the partners laughed together — pleasantly and cheerfully, as men who are going to receive money often do.

      ‘We shall make Mr. Pickwick pay for peeping,’ said Fogg, with considerable native humour, as he unfolded his papers. ‘The amount of the taxed costs is one hundred and thirty-three, six, four, Mr. Perker.’

      There was a great comparing of papers, and turning over of leaves, by Fogg and Perker, after this statement of profit and loss. Meanwhile, Dodson said, in an affable manner, to Mr. Pickwick —

      ‘I don’t think you are looking quite so stout as when I had the pleasure of seeing you last, Mr. Pickwick.’

      ‘Possibly not, Sir,’ replied Mr. Pickwick, who had been flashing forth looks of fierce indignation, without producing the smallest effect on either of the sharp practitioners; ‘I believe I am not, Sir. I have been persecuted and annoyed by scoundrels of late, Sir.’ Perker coughed violently, and asked Mr. Pickwick whether he wouldn’t like to look at the morning paper. To which inquiry Mr. Pickwick returned a most decided negative.

      ‘True,’ said Dodson, ‘I dare say you have been annoyed in the Fleet; there are some odd gentry there. Whereabouts were your apartments, Mr. Pickwick?’

      ‘My one room,’ replied that much-injured gentleman, ‘was on the coffee-room flight.’

      ‘Oh, indeed!’ said Dodson. ‘I believe that is a very pleasant part of the establishment.’

      ‘Very,’replied Mr. Pickwick drily.

      There was a coolness about all this, which, to a gentleman of an excitable temperament, had, under the circumstances, rather an exasperating tendency. Mr. Pickwick restrained his wrath by gigantic efforts; but when Perker wrote a cheque for the whole amount, and Fogg deposited it in a small pocketbook, with a triumphant smile playing over his pimply features, which communicated itself likewise to the stern countenance of Dodson, he felt the blood in his cheeks tingling with indignation.

      ‘Now, Mr. Dodson,’ said Fogg, putting up the pocketbook and drawing on his gloves, ‘I am at your service.’

      ‘Very good,’ said Dodson, rising; ‘I am quite ready.’

      ‘I am very happy,’ said Fogg, softened by the cheque, ‘to have had the pleasure of making Mr. Pickwick’s acquaintance. I hope you don’t think quite so ill of us, Mr. Pickwick, as when we first had the pleasure of seeing you.’

      ‘I hope not,’ said Dodson, with the high tone of calumniated virtue. ‘Mr. Pickwick now knows us better, I trust; whatever your opinion of gentlemen of our profession may be, I beg to assure you, sir, that I bear no ill-will or vindictive feeling towards you for the sentiments you thought proper to express in our office in Freeman’s Court, Cornhill, on the occasion to which my partner has referred.’

      ‘Oh, no, no; nor I,’ said Fogg, in a most forgiving manner.

      ‘Our conduct, Sir,’ said Dodson, ‘will speak for itself, and justify itself, I hope, upon every occasion. We have been in the profession some years, Mr. Pickwick, and have been honoured with the confidence of many excellent clients. I wish you good-morning, Sir.’

      ‘Good-morning, Mr. Pickwick,’ said Fogg. So saying, he put his umbrella under his arm, drew off his right glove, and extended the hand of reconciliation

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