'
'For what?' asked old Martin.
'I can't leave her, poor thing!' said Chuffey. 'She has been very good
to me. I can't leave her, Mr Chuzzlewit. Thank you kindly. I'll remain
here. I haven't long to remain; it's no great matter.'
As he meekly shook his poor, grey head, and thanked old Martin in these
words, Mrs Gamp, now entirely in the room, was affected to tears.
'The mercy as it is!' she said, 'as sech a dear, good, reverend creetur
never got into the clutches of Betsey Prig, which but for me he would
have done, undoubted; facts bein' stubborn and not easy drove!'
'You heard me speak to you just now, old man,' said Jonas to his uncle.
'I'll have no more tampering with my people, man or woman. Do you see
the door?'
'Do YOU see the door?' returned the voice of Mark, coming from that
direction. 'Look at it!'
He looked, and his gaze was nailed there. Fatal, ill-omened blighted
threshold, cursed by his father's footsteps in his dying hour, cursed by
his young wife's sorrowing tread, cursed by the daily shadow of the old
clerk's figure, cursed by the crossing of his murderer's feet--what men
were standing in the door way!
Nadgett foremost.
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