‘And the dates?’
‘Two months, and four.’
‘I’ll do them for you—mind, for you; I wouldn’t for many people—for five-and-twenty pounds,’ said Ralph, deliberately.
‘Oh demmit!’ cried Mr. Mantalini, whose face lengthened considerably at this handsome proposal.
‘Why, that leaves you fifty,’ retorted Ralph. ‘What would you have? Let me see the names.’
‘You are so demd hard, Nickleby,’ remonstrated Mr. Mantalini.
‘Let me see the names,’ replied Ralph, impatiently extending his hand for the bills. ‘Well! They are not sure, but they are safe enough. Do you consent to the terms, and will you take the money? I don’t want you to do so. I would rather you didn’t.’
‘Demmit, Nickleby, can’t you—’ began Mr. Mantalini.
‘No,’ replied Ralph, interrupting him. ‘I can’t. Will you take the money—down, mind; no delay, no going into the city and pretending to negotiate with some other party who has no existence, and never had. Is it a bargain, or is it not?’
Ralph pushed some papers from him as he spoke, and carelessly rattled his cash-box, as though by mere accident. The sound was too much for Mr Mantalini. He closed the bargain directly it reached his ears, and Ralph told the money out upon the table.