tand that he hasn't
used me like a gentleman.'

'I do not understand that,' observed the obnoxious personage referred to
with tranquillity.

'No? Why, then, to make it clearer to you, sir, I beg to let you know
that when I address what I call a properly-worded appeal, and an urgent
appeal, and a delicate appeal, to an individual, for a small temporary
accommodation, easily within his power--easily within his power,
mind!--and when that individual writes back word to me that he begs to
be excused, I consider that he doesn't treat me like a gentleman.'

The Father of the Marshalsea, who had surveyed his son in silence, no
sooner heard this sentiment, than he began in angry voice:--

'How dare you--' But his son stopped him.

'Now, don't ask me how I dare, father, because that's bosh. As to the
fact of the line of conduct I choose to adopt towards the individual
present, you ought to be proud of my showing a proper spirit.'

'I should think so!' cried Fanny.

'A proper spirit?' said the Father. 'Yes, a proper spirit; a becoming
spirit. Is it come to this that my son teaches me--ME--spirit!'

'Now, don't let us bother about it, father, or have any row on the
subject. I have fully made up my mind that the individual present has
not treated me like a gentleman. And there's an end of it.'

'But there is not an end of it, sir,' returned the Father. 'But there
shall not be an end of it. You have made up your mind? You have made up
your mind?'

'Yes, I have. What's the good of keeping on like that?'

'Because,' returned the Father, in a great heat, 'you had no right to
make up your mind to what is monstrous, to what is--ha--immoral, to what
is--hum--parricidal. No, Mr Clennam, I beg, sir. Don't ask me to desist;
there is a--hum--a general principle involved here, which rises even
above considerations of--ha--hospitality. I object to the assertion made
by my son. I--ha--I personally repel it.'

'Why, what is it to you, father?' returned the son, over his shoulder.

'What is it to me, sir? I have a--hum--a spirit, sir, that will not
endure it. I,' he took out his pocket-handkerchief again and dabbed his
face. 'I am outraged and insulted by it. Let me suppose the case that I
myself may at a certain time--ha--or times, have made a--hum--an appeal,
and a properly-worded appeal, and a delicate appeal, and an urgent
appeal to some individual for a small temporary accommodation. Let me
suppose that that accommodation could