‘Oh! Well. You have a mighty admiration for this young lady—since you are so particular?’
‘Yes.’
‘How do you reconcile that, with this young lady’s being a weak-spirited, improvident idiot, not knowing what was due to herself, flinging up her money to the church-weathercocks, and racing off at a splitting pace for the workhouse?’
‘I don’t understand you.’
‘Don’t you? Or won’t you? What else could you have made this young lady out to be, if she had listened to such addresses as yours?’
‘What else, if I had been so happy as to win her affections and possess her heart?’
‘Win her affections,’ retorted Mr Boffin, with ineffable contempt, ‘and possess her heart! Mew says the cat, Quack-quack says the duck, Bow-wow-wow says the dog! Win her affections and possess her heart! Mew, Quack-quack, Bow-wow!’
John Rokesmith stared at him in his outburst, as if with some faint idea that he had gone mad.
‘What is due to this young lady,’ said Mr Boffin, ‘is Money, and this young lady right well knows it.’
‘You slander the young lady.’