All the delusive hopes I had founded on his separation from
his betrothed wife, I give to the winds. They perish before this
fatal discovery. I now swear, and record the oath on this page,
That I nevermore will discuss this mystery with any human creature
until I hold the clue to it in my hand. That I never will relax in
my secrecy or in my search. That I will fasten the crime of the
murder of my dear dead boy upon the murderer. And, That I devote
myself to his destruction.'
CHAPTER XVII--PHILANTHROPY, PROFESSIONAL AND UNPROFESSIONAL
Full half a year had come and gone, and Mr. Crisparkle sat in a
waiting-room in the London chief offices of the Haven of
Philanthropy, until he could have audience of Mr. Honeythunder.
In his college days of athletic exercises, Mr. Crisparkle had known
professors of the Noble Art of fisticuffs, and had attended two or
three of their gloved gatherings. He had now an opportunity of
observing that as to the phrenological formation of the backs of
their heads, the Professing Philanthropists were uncommonly like
the Pugilists. In the development of all those organs which
constitute, or attend, a propensity to 'pitch into' your fellow-
creatures, the Philanthropists were remarkably favoured. There
were several Professors passing in and out, with exactly the
aggressive air upon them of being ready for a turn-up with any
Novice who might happen to be on hand, that Mr.
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