I know your real nature and despise it.'
'No, no,' said Mr Pecksniff, sweetly. 'No, no, no!'
'By what arts or unhappy chances you have gained your influence over
Mr Chuzzlewit, I do not know,' said Mary; 'it may be strong enough to
soften even this, but he shall know of this, trust me, sir.'
Mr Pecksniff raised his heavy eyelids languidly, and let them fall
again. It was saying with perfect coolness, 'Aye, aye! Indeed!'
'Is it not enough,' said Mary, 'that you warp and change his nature,
adapt his every prejudice to your bad ends, and harden a heart naturally
kind by shutting out the truth and allowing none but false and distorted
views to reach it; is it not enough that you have the power of doing
this, and that you exercise it, but must you also be so coarse, so
cruel, and so cowardly to me?'
Still Mr Pecksniff led her calmly on, and looked as mild as any lamb
that ever pastured in the fields.
'Will nothing move you, sir?' cried Mary.
'My dear,' observed Mr Pecksniff, with a placid leer, 'a habit of
self-examination, and the practice of--shall I say of virtue?'
'Of hypocrisy,' said Mary.
Pages:
891
892
893
894
895
896
897
898
899
900
901
902
903
904
905
906
907
908
909
910
911
912
913
914
915