'and he lived in a wale; and he must take the consequences of sech a
sitiwation. But don't you hear nothink of Mr Chuzzlewit in all this?'
'No,' said Poll, 'nothing to speak of. His name wasn't printed as one of
the board, though some people say it was just going to be. Some believe
he was took in, and some believe he was one of the takers-in; but
however that may be, they can't prove nothing against him. This morning
he went up of his own accord afore the Lord Mayor or some of them City
big-wigs, and complained that he'd been swindled, and that these two
persons had gone off and cheated him, and that he had just found out
that Montague's name wasn't even Montague, but something else. And they
do say that he looked like Death, owing to his losses. But, Lord
forgive me,' cried the barber, coming back again to the subject of
his individual grief, 'what's his looks to me! He might have died and
welcome, fifty times, and not been such a loss as Bailey!'
At this juncture the little bell rang, and the deep voice of Mrs Prig
struck into the conversation.
'Oh! You're a-talkin' about it, are you!' observed that lady.
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