‘Nothing, only add how ardently I long for the time when I may call her mine, and all dissimulation may be unnecessary.’
‘Certainly, certainly. Anything more?’
‘Oh, my friend!’ said poor Mr. Tupman, again grasping the hand of his companion, ‘receive my warmest thanks for your disinterested kindness; and forgive me if I have ever, even in thought, done you the injustice of supposing that you could stand in my way. My dear friend, can I ever repay you?’
‘Don’t talk of it,’ replied Mr. Jingle. He stopped short, as if suddenly recollecting something, and said—‘By the bye—can’t spare ten pounds, can you?—very particular purpose—pay you in three days.’
‘I dare say I can,’ replied Mr. Tupman, in the fulness of his heart. ‘Three days, you say?’
‘Only three days—all over then—no more difficulties.’ Mr. Tupman counted the money into his companion’s hand, and he dropped it piece by piece into his pocket, as they walked towards the house.
‘Be careful,’ said Mr. Jingle—‘not a look.’
‘Not a wink,’ said Mr. Tupman.
‘Not a syllable.’
‘Not a whisper.’