‘Well, Nickleby,’ said Squeers, eyeing him maliciously. ‘You think he has run away, I suppose?’
‘I think it extremely likely,’ replied Nicholas, in a quiet manner.
‘Oh, you do, do you?’ sneered Squeers. ‘Maybe you know he has?’
‘I know nothing of the kind.’
‘He didn’t tell you he was going, I suppose, did he?’ sneered Squeers.
‘He did not,’ replied Nicholas; ‘I am very glad he did not, for it would then have been my duty to have warned you in time.’
‘Which no doubt you would have been devilish sorry to do,’ said Squeers in a taunting fashion.
‘I should indeed,’ replied Nicholas. ‘You interpret my feelings with great accuracy.’
Mrs. Squeers had listened to this conversation, from the bottom of the stairs; but, now losing all patience, she hastily assumed her night-jacket, and made her way to the scene of action.
‘What’s all this here to-do?’ said the lady, as the boys fell off right and left, to save her the trouble of clearing a passage with her brawny arms. ‘What on earth are you a talking to him for, Squeery!’