f the day. I am your faithful servant, humbly
devoted to you from this hour, devoted in strict truth and honour to him
who sent me here, and in pure integrity of heart, and distant respect
for you. If I meant more or less than this, I should be unworthy his
regard, and false to the very nature that prompts the honest words I
utter.'
She waved her hand, entreating him to be gone, but answered not a word.
Nicholas could say no more, and silently withdrew. And thus ended his
first interview with Madeline Bray.
CHAPTER 47
Mr Ralph Nickleby has some confidential Intercourse with another old
Friend. They concert between them a Project, which promises well for
both
'There go the three-quarters past!' muttered Newman Noggs, listening
to the chimes of some neighbouring church 'and my dinner time's two. He
does it on purpose. He makes a point of it. It's just like him.'
It was in his own little den of an office and on the top of his official
stool that Newman thus soliloquised; and the soliloquy referred, as
Newman's grumbling soliloquies usually did, to Ralph Nickleby.
'I don't believe he ever had an appetite,' said Newman, 'except for
pounds, shillings, and pence, and with them he's as greedy as a wolf. I
should like to have him compelled to swallow one of every English coin.
The penny would be an awkward morsel--but the crown--ha! ha!'
His good-humour being in some degree restored by the vision of Ralph
Nickleby swallowing, perforce, a five-shilling piece, Newman slowly
brought forth from his desk one of those portable bottles, currently
known as pocket-pistols, and shaking the same close to his ear so as to
produce a rippling sound very cool and pleasant to listen to, suffered
his features to relax, and took a gurgling drink, which relaxed them
still more. Replacing the cork, he smacked his lips twice or thrice with
an air of great relish, and, the taste of the liquor having by this time
evaporated, recurred to his grievance again.
'Five minutes to three,' growled Newman; 'it can't want more by this
time; and I had my breakfast at eight o'clock, and SUCH a breakfast!
and my right dinner-time two! And I might have a nice little bit of hot
roast meat spoiling at home all this time--how does HE know I haven't?
"Don't go till I come back," "Don't go till I come back," day after day.
What do you always go out at my dinner-time for then--eh? Don't you know
it's nothing but aggravation--eh?'
These words, th
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