'
Tom came. Constrained and altered in his manner, downcast and dejected,
visibly confused; not liking to look Pecksniff in the face.
The honest man bestowed a glance on Mr Chuzzlewit, as who should say
'You see!' and addressed himself to Tom in these terms:
'Mr Pinch, I have left the vestry-window unfastened. Will you do me the
favour to go and secure it; then bring the keys of the sacred edifice to
me!'
'The vestry-window, sir?' cried Tom.
'You understand me, Mr Pinch, I think,' returned his patron. 'Yes, Mr
Pinch, the vestry-window. I grieve to say that sleeping in the church
after a fatiguing ramble, I overheard just now some fragments,' he
emphasised that word, 'of a dialogue between two parties; and one of
them locking the church when he went out, I was obliged to leave
it myself by the vestry-window. Do me the favour to secure that
vestry-window, Mr Pinch, and then come back to me.'
No physiognomist that ever dwelt on earth could have construed Tom's
face when he heard these words. Wonder was in it, and a mild look of
reproach, but certainly no fear or guilt, although a host of strong
emotions struggled to display themselves.
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