'Never was such a thing known,' rejoined Squeers, taking a little roll
of notes from his pocket-book, to see that they were all safe.
'I have been, Mr Snawley,' said Mr Squeers, when he had satisfied
himself upon this point, 'I have been that chap's benefactor, feeder,
teacher, and clother. I have been that chap's classical, commercial,
mathematical, philosophical, and trigonomical friend. My son--my only
son, Wackford--has been his brother; Mrs Squeers has been his mother,
grandmother, aunt,--ah! and I may say uncle too, all in one. She never
cottoned to anybody, except them two engaging and delightful boys of
yours, as she cottoned to this chap. What's my return? What's come of
my milk of human kindness? It turns into curds and whey when I look at
him.'
'Well it may, sir,' said Mrs Snawley. 'Oh! Well it may, sir.'
'Where has he been all this time?' inquired Snawley. 'Has he been living
with--?'
'Ah, sir!' interposed Squeers, confronting him again. 'Have you been a
living with that there devilish Nickleby, sir?'
But no threats or cuffs could elicit from Smike one word of reply to
this question; for he had internally resolved that he would rather
perish in the wretched prison to which he was again about to be
consigned, than utter one syllable which could involve his first and
true friend.
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