er loved nobody,' bawled Squeers, through the keyhole. 'He
never loved me; he never loved Wackford, who is next door but one to
a cherubim. How can you expect that he'll love his father? He'll never
love his father, he won't. He don't know what it is to have a father. He
don't understand it. It an't in him.'

Mr Snawley looked steadfastly at his son for a full minute, and then
covering his eyes with his hand, and once more raising his hat in the
air, appeared deeply occupied in deploring his black ingratitude. Then
drawing his arm across his eyes, he picked up Mr Squeers's hat, and
taking it under one arm, and his own under the other, walked slowly and
sadly out.

'Your romance, sir,' said Ralph, lingering for a moment, 'is destroyed,
I take it. No unknown; no persecuted descendant of a man of high degree;
but the weak, imbecile son of a poor, petty tradesman. We shall see how
your sympathy melts before plain matter of fact.'

'You shall,' said Nicholas, motioning towards the door.

'And trust me, sir,' added Ralph, 'that I never supposed you would give
him up tonight. Pride, obstinacy, reputation for fine feeling, were all
against it. These must be brought down, sir, lowered, crushed, as they
shall be soon. The protracted and wearing anxiety and expense of the law
in its most oppressive form, its torture from hour to hour, its weary
days and sleepless nights, with these I'll prove you, and break your
haughty spirit, strong as you deem it now. And when you make this house
a hell, and visit these trials upon yonder wretched object (as you will;
I know you), and those who think you now a young-fledged hero, we'll
go into old accounts between us two, and see who stands the debtor, and
comes out best at last, even before the world.'

Ralph Nickleby withdrew. But Mr Squeers, who had heard a portion of this
closing address, and was by this time wound up to a pitch of impotent
malignity almost unprecedented, could not refrain from returning to the
parlour door, and actually cutting some dozen capers with various wry
faces and hideous grimaces, expressive of his triumphant confidence in
the downfall and defeat of Nicholas.

Having concluded this war-dance, in which his short trousers and large
boots had borne a very conspicuous figure, Mr Squeers followed his
friends, and the family were left to meditate upon recent occurrences.

CHAPTER 46

Throws some Light upon Nicholas's Love; but whether for Good or Evil the
R