nity which was set by Mr.
Cohen's view of men and things.

"Does he belong to your family?" said Deronda.

This idea appeared to be rather ludicrous to the ladies as well as to
Cohen, and the family interchanged looks of amusement.

"No, no," said Cohen. "Charity! charity! he worked for me, and when he
got weaker and weaker I took him in. He's an incumbrance; but he brings
a blessing down, and he teaches the boy. Besides, he does the repairing
at the watches and jewelry."

Deronda hardly abstained from smiling at this mixture of kindliness and
the desire to justify it in the light of a calculation; but his
willingness to speak further of Mordecai, whose character was made the
more enigmatically striking by these new details, was baffled. Mr.
Cohen immediately dismissed the subject by reverting to the
"accommodation," which was also an act of charity, and proceeded to
make out the ticket, get the forty pounds, and present them both in
exchange for the diamond ring. Deronda, feeling that it would be hardly
delicate to protract his visit beyond the settlement of the business
which was its pretext, had to take his leave, with no more decided
result than the advance of forty pounds and the pawn-ticket in his
breast-pocket, to make a reason for returning when he came up to town
after Christmas. He was resolved that he would then endeavor to gain a
little more insight into the character and history of Mordecai; from
whom also he might gather something decisive about the Cohens--for
example, the reason why it was forbidden to ask Mrs. Cohen the elder
whether she had a daughter.

BOOK V.--MORDECAI.

CHAPTER XXXV.

Were uneasiness of conscience measured by extent of crime, human
history had been different, and one should look to see the contrivers
of greedy wars and the mighty marauders of the money-market in one
troop of self-lacerating penitents with the meaner robber and
cut-purse and the murderer that doth his butchery in small with his own
hand. No doubt wickedness hath its rewards to distribute; but who so
wins in this devil's game must needs be baser, more cruel, more brutal
than the order of this planet will allow for the multitude born of
woman, the most of these carrying a form of conscience--a fear which
is the shadow of justice, a pity which is the shadow of love--that
hindereth from the prize of serene wickedness, itself difficult of
maintenance in our