‘I think so.’
‘He never owned to being rich, and yet he might have bought me twice over. Did you ever hear of Daniel Dancer?’
‘Another miser? Yes.’
‘He was a good ’un,’ said Mr Boffin, ‘and he had a sister worthy of him. They never called themselves rich neither. If they had called themselves rich, most likely they wouldn’t have been so.’
‘They lived and died very miserably. Did they not, sir?’
‘No, I don’t know that they did,’ said Mr Boffin, curtly.
‘Then they are not the Misers I mean. Those abject wretches—’
‘Don’t call names, Rokesmith,’ said Mr Boffin.
‘—That exemplary brother and sister—lived and died in the foulest and filthiest degradation.’
‘They pleased themselves,’ said Mr Boffin, ‘and I suppose they could have done no more if they had spent their money. But however, I ain’t going to fling mine away. Keep the expenses down. The fact is, you ain’t enough here, Rokesmith. It wants constant attention in the littlest things. Some of us will be dying in a workhouse next.’