'He!' said Martin, 'smooth-tongued villain that he is! He! Give me that
other boot, Mark?'
'Where was you a-thinking of going to, sir?' inquired Mr Tapley drying
the sole at the fire, and looking coolly at it as he spoke, as if it
were a slice of toast.
'Where!' repeated Martin. 'You don't suppose I am going to remain here,
do you?'
The imperturbable Mark confessed that he did.
You do!' retorted Martin angrily. 'I am much obliged to you. What do you
take me for?'
'I take you for what you are, sir,' said Mark; 'and, consequently, am
quite sure that whatever you do will be right and sensible. The boot,
sir.'
Martin darted an impatient look at him, without taking it, and walked
rapidly up and down the kitchen several times, with one boot and a
stocking on. But, mindful of his Eden resolution, he had already gained
many victories over himself when Mark was in the case, and he resolved
to conquer now. So he came back to the book-jack, laid his hand on
Mark's shoulder to steady himself, pulled the boot off, picked up his
slippers, put them on, and sat down again. He could not help thrusting
his hands to the very bottom of his pockets, and muttering at intervals,
'Pecksniff too! That fellow! Upon my soul! In-deed! What next?' and so
forth; nor could he help occasionally shaking his fist at the chimney,
with a very threatening countenance; but this did not last long; and he
heard Mrs Lupin out, if not with composure, at all events in silence.
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