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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

"Nicholas Nickleby"

That's my acknowledgment of his orders, sir!'
'And this is the independence of a man who sells his daughter as he has
sold that weeping girl!' thought Nicholas.
The father was too much absorbed with his own exultation to mark the
look of scorn which, for an instant, Nicholas could not have suppressed
had he been upon the rack. 'There,' he continued, after a short
silence, 'you have your message and can retire--unless you have any
further--ha!--any further orders.'
'I have none,' said Nicholas; 'nor, in the consideration of the station
you once held, have I used that or any other word which, however
harmless in itself, could be supposed to imply authority on my part or
dependence on yours. I have no orders, but I have fears--fears that I
will express, chafe as you may--fears that you may be consigning that
young lady to something worse than supporting you by the labour of her
hands, had she worked herself dead. These are my fears, and these fears
I found upon your own demeanour. Your conscience will tell you, sir,
whether I construe it well or not.'
'For Heaven's sake!' cried Madeline, interposing in alarm between them.


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