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‘Nothing,’ replied Squeers, ‘only I’m looking for--’
Newman raised the bellows again. Once more, Frank, by a
rapid motion of his arm, unaccompanied by any noise, checked
him in his purpose.
‘Here you are,’ said Squeers, ‘bonds--take care of them.
Warrant of attorney--take care of that. Two cognovits--take care
of them. Lease and release--burn that. Ah! “Madeline Bray--
come of age or marry--the said Madeline”--here, burn that!’
Eagerly throwing towards the old woman a parchment that he
caught up for the purpose, Squeers, as she turned her head, thrust
into the breast of his large coat, the deed in which these words had
caught his eye, and burst into a shout of triumph.
‘I’ve got it!’ said Squeers. ‘I’ve got it! Hurrah! The plan was a
good one, though the chance was desperate, and the day’s our own
Peg demanded what he laughed at, but no answer was
returned. Newman’s arm could no longer be restrained; the
bellows, descending heavily and with unerring aim on the very
centre of Mr Squeers’s head, felled him to the floor, and stretched
him on it flat and senseless.