But I never felt my poverty so
deeply as I feel it now.'
'Read it to me, Pecksniff,' said the old man.
Mr Pecksniff, after approaching the perusal of the paper as if it were a
manuscript confession of a murder, complied.
'I think, Pecksniff,' said old Martin, 'I could wish that to be
discharged. I should not like the lender, who was abroad, who had
no opportunity of making inquiry, and who did (as he thought) a kind
action, to suffer.'
'An honourable sentiment, my dear sir. Your own entirely. But a
dangerous precedent,' said Mr Pecksniff, 'permit me to suggest.'
'It shall not be a precedent,' returned the old man. 'It is the only
recognition of him. But we will talk of it again. You shall advise me.
There is nothing else?'
'Nothing else,' said Mr Pecksniff buoyantly, 'but for you to recover
this intrusion--this cowardly and indefensible outrage on your
feelings--with all possible dispatch, and smile again.'
'You have nothing more to say?' inquired the old man, laying his hand
with unusual earnestness on Mr Pecksniff's sleeve.
Mr Pecksniff would not say what rose to his lips.
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