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PinkMonkey.com-Nicholas Nickelby by Charles Dickens




242

Crowl, in the same pettish tone.

Uttering a low querulous growl, the speaker, whose harsh
countenance was the very epitome of selfishness, raked the scanty
fire nearly out of the grate, and, emptying the glass which Noggs
had pushed towards him, inquired where he kept his coals.

Newman Noggs pointed to the bottom of a cupboard, and Mr
Crowl, seizing the shovel, threw on half the stock: which Noggs
very deliberately took off again, without saying a word.

‘You have not turned saving, at this time of day, I hope?’ said
Crowl.

Newman pointed to the empty glass, as though it were a
sufficient refutation of the charge, and briefly said that he was
going downstairs to supper.

‘To the Kenwigses?’ asked Crowl.
Newman nodded assent.

‘Think of that now!’ said Crowl. ‘If I didn’t--thinking that you
were certain not to go, because you said you wouldn’t--tell
Kenwigs I couldn’t come, and make up my mind to spend the
evening with you!’

‘I was obliged to go,’ said Newman. ‘They would have me.’
‘Well; but what’s to become of me?’ urged the selfish man, who
never thought of anybody else. ‘It’s all your fault. I’ll tell you
what--I’ll sit by your fire till you come back again.’

Newman cast a despairing glance at his small store of fuel, but,
not having the courage to say no--a word which in all his life he
never had said at the right time, either to himself or anyone else--
gave way to the proposed arrangement. Mr Crowl immediately
went about making himself as comfortable, with Newman Nogg’s
means, as circumstances would admit of his being made.


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