They both appeared to derive a larger amount of satisfaction from the cautious character of Mr Pancks, than was quite intelligible, judged by the surface of their conversation.
‘And now,’ said Daniel, looking at his watch, ‘as time and tide wait for no man, my trusty partner, and as I am ready for starting, bag and baggage, at the gate below, let me say a last word. I want you to grant a request of mine.’
‘Any request you can make—Except,’ Clennam was quick with his exception, for his partner’s face was quick in suggesting it, ‘except that I will abandon your invention.’
‘That’s the request, and you know it is,’ said Doyce.
‘I say, No, then. I say positively, No. Now that I have begun, I will have some definite reason, some responsible statement, something in the nature of a real answer, from those people.’
‘You will not,’ returned Doyce, shaking his head. ‘Take my word for it, you never will.’
‘At least, I’ll try,’ said Clennam. ‘It will do me no harm to try.’
‘I am not certain of that,’ rejoined Doyce, laying his hand persuasively on his shoulder. ‘It has done me harm, my friend. It has aged me, tired me, vexed me, disappointed me. It does no man any good to have his patience worn out, and to think himself ill-used. I fancy, even already, that unavailing attendance on delays and evasions has made you something less elastic than you used to be.’
‘Private anxieties may have done that for the moment,’ said Clennam, ‘but not official harrying. Not yet. I am not hurt yet.’
‘Then you won’t grant my request?’