that Lord De Griffin has sixty thousand a-year to
spend. What's sixty thousand a year? Didn't I make him go on my
business? And didn't I make 'em do as I chose? You want to tell me
this and that, but I can tell you that I know more of men and women
than some of you fellows do, who think you know a great deal.'

This went on through the whole of a long cigar; and afterwards, as
Lord Alfred slowly paced his way back to his lodgings in Mount Street,
he thought deeply whether there might not be means of escaping from
his present servitude. 'Beast! Brute! Pig!' he said to himself over
and over again as he slowly went to Mount Street.

CHAPTER LV - CLERICAL CHARITIES

Melmotte's success, and Melmotte's wealth, and Melmotte's antecedents
were much discussed down in Suffolk at this time. He had been seen
there in the flesh, and there is no believing like that which comes
from sight. He had been staying at Caversham, and many in those parts
knew that Miss Longestaffe was now living in his house in London. The
purchase of the Pickering estate had also been noticed in all the
Suffolk and Norfolk newspapers. Rumours, therefore, of his past
frauds, rumour also as to the instability of his presumed fortune,
were as current as those which declared him to be by far the richest
man in England. Miss Melmotte's little attempt had also been
communicated in the papers; and Sir Felix, though he was not
recognized as being 'real Suffolk' himself, was so far connected with
Suffolk by name as to add something to this feeling of reality
respecting the Melmottes generally. Suffolk is very old-fashioned.
Suffolk, taken as a whole, did not like the Melmotte fashion. Suffolk,
which is, I fear, persistently and irrecoverably Conservative, did not
believe in Melmotte as a Conservative Member of Parliament. Suffolk on
this occasion was rather ashamed of the Longestaffes, and took
occasion to remember that it was barely the other day, as Suffolk
counts days, since the original Longestaffe was in trade. This selling
of Pickering, and especially the selling of it to Melmotte, was a mean
thing. Suffolk, as a whole, thoroughly believed that Melmotte had
picked the very bones of every shareholder in that Franco-Austrian
Assurance Company.

Mr Hepworth was over with Roger one morning, and they were talking
about him,--or talking rather of the attempted elopement. 'I know
nothing about it,' said Roger, 'and I do not intend to ask. Of course
I did