'
'I don't sit here, sir,' returned the Philanthropist, raising his
voice to a roar, 'to be browbeaten.'
'As the only other person present, no one can possibly know that
better than I do,' returned the Minor Canon very quietly. 'But I
interrupt your explanation.'
'Murder!' proceeded Mr. Honeythunder, in a kind of boisterous
reverie, with his platform folding of his arms, and his platform
nod of abhorrent reflection after each short sentiment of a word.
'Bloodshed! Abel! Cain! I hold no terms with Cain. I repudiate
with a shudder the red hand when it is offered me.'
Instead of instantly leaping into his chair and cheering himself
hoarse, as the Brotherhood in public meeting assembled would
infallibly have done on this cue, Mr. Crisparkle merely reversed
the quiet crossing of his legs, and said mildly: 'Don't let me
interrupt your explanation--when you begin it.'
'The Commandments say, no murder. NO murder, sir!' proceeded Mr.
Honeythunder, platformally pausing as if he took Mr. Crisparkle to
task for having distinctly asserted that they said: You may do a
little murder, and then leave off.
'And they also say, you shall bear no false witness,' observed Mr.
Crisparkle.
'Enough!' bellowed Mr. Honeythunder, with a solemnity and severity
that would have brought the house down at a meeting, 'E-e-nough!
My late wards being now of age, and I being released from a trust
which I cannot contemplate without a thrill of horror, there are
the accounts which you have undertaken to accept on their behalf,
and there is a statement of the balance which you have undertaken
to receive, and which you cannot receive too soon.
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