The dwarf taking no heed of this adjuration, Mr Swiveller advanced with the view of inflicting upon him condign chastisement. But forgetting his purpose or changing his mind before he came close to him, he seized his hand and vowed eternal friendship, declaring with an agreeable frankness that from that time forth they were brothers in everything but personal appearance. Then he told his secret over again, with the addition of being pathetic on the subject of Miss Wackles, who, he gave Mr Quilp to understand, was the occasion of any slight incoherency he might observe in his speech at that moment, which was attributable solely to the strength of his affection and not to rosy wine or other fermented liquor. And then they went on arm-in-arm, very lovingly together.
[Original]
‘I’m as sharp,’ said Quilp to him, at parting, ‘as sharp as a ferret, and as cunning as a weazel. You bring Trent to me; assure him that I’m his friend though I fear he a little distrusts me (I don’t know why, I have not deserved it); and you’ve both of you made your fortunes—in perspective.’
‘That’s the worst of it,’ returned Dick. ‘These fortunes in perspective look such a long way off.’
‘But they look smaller than they really are, on that account,’ said Quilp, pressing his arm. ‘You’ll have no conception of the value of your prize until you draw close to it. Mark that.’
‘D’ye think not?’ said Dick.
‘Aye, I do; and I am certain of what I say, that’s better,’ returned the dwarf. ‘You bring Trent to me. Tell him I am his friend and yours—why shouldn’t I be?’
‘There’s no reason why you shouldn’t, certainly,’ replied Dick, ‘and perhaps there are a great many why you should—at least there would be nothing strange in your wanting to be my friend, if you were a choice spirit, but then you know you’re not a choice spirit.’
‘I not a choice spirit?’ cried Quilp.