"Well, Charley," he said, with quite an affectation of good humour. "You are a good lad."
"I am glad you think so, sir," she replied, seeing that Todd paused for an answer.
"I cannot but think so. I shall have to look over some accounts in the parlour this morning, and if anybody—any female, I mean—comes for me, say I have gone to the city, and that, after that, I said I would call in Bell Yard before I came home. You well remember that, Bell Yard. Be vigilant and discreet, and you shall have the reward that I have all along intended for you, and which you should not miss upon any account."
"I am much beholden to you, sir. But if any one should come to be shaved while you are in the parlour, what shall I say to them?"
"You can say I have gone to the Temple to dress Mr. Block's new wig, if you like, so that you got rid of them, for I must not be disturbed on any consideration."
"Very well, sir."
"Put another turf on the fire, Charley, and make yourself quite comfortable."
What inconsistent amenity this was upon the part of Todd. It seemed as though he had turned over a new leaf completely, and intended to put an end to all suspicions, if he had any, of Charley Green; and after that—after that, Todd still preserved his kind intention of cutting his throat with one of the razors.
"The very best thing you can do with people," muttered Todd to himself, as he went into the parlour, "is to cut their throats as soon as they cease to be useful to you, for from that moment, if you do not put them out of the way, they are almost certain to be mischievous to you."
What a pleasant lot of maxims Todd had, and what a beautiful system of moral philosophy his was, to be sure!