cstasy with his commission.

He reached the office, hung his hat on its accustomed peg, laid the
letter and key upon the desk, and waited impatiently until Ralph
Nickleby should appear. After a few minutes, the well-known creaking of
his boots was heard on the stairs, and then the bell rung.

'Has the post come in?'

'No.'

'Any other letters?'

'One.' Newman eyed him closely, and laid it on the desk.

'What's this?' asked Ralph, taking up the key.

'Left with the letter;--a boy brought them--quarter of an hour ago, or
less.'

Ralph glanced at the direction, opened the letter, and read as
follows:--

'You are known to me now. There are no reproaches I could heap upon your
head which would carry with them one thousandth part of the grovelling
shame that this assurance will awaken even in your breast.

'Your brother's widow and her orphan child spurn the shelter of your
roof, and shun you with disgust and loathing. Your kindred renounce you,
for they know no shame but the ties of blood which bind them in name
with you.

'You are an old man, and I leave you to the grave. May every
recollection of your life cling to your false heart, and cast their
darkness on your death-bed.'

Ralph Nickleby read this letter twice, and frowning heavily, fell into
a fit of musing; the paper fluttered from his hand and dropped upon the
floor, but he clasped his fingers, as if he held it still.

Suddenly, he started from his seat, and thrusting it all crumpled into
his pocket, turned furiously to Newman Noggs, as though to ask him
why he lingered. But Newman stood unmoved, with his back towards him,
following up, with the worn and blackened stump of an old pen, some
figures in an Interest-table which was pasted against the wall, and
apparently quite abstracted from every other object.

CHAPTER 34

Wherein Mr Ralph Nickleby is visited by Persons with whom the Reader has
been already made acquainted

'What a demnition long time you have kept me ringing at this confounded
old cracked tea-kettle of a bell, every tinkle of which is enough to
throw a strong man into blue convulsions, upon my life and soul, oh
demmit,'--said Mr Mantalini to Newman Noggs, scraping his boots, as he
spoke, on Ralph Nickleby's scraper.

'I didn't hear the bell more than once,' replied Newman.

'Then you are most immensely and outr-i-geously deaf,' said Mr
Mantalini, 'as deaf as a demnition post.'

Mr Mantalini had got by this time into th