Mrs. Quilp sobbed, knowing that his compliments are the most extreme demonstrations of violence.
“She’s such,” said the dwarf, with a ghastly grin, “such a jewel, such a diamond, such a pearl, such a ruby, such a golden casket set with gems of all sorts! She’s such a treasure! I’m so fond of her!”
The poor little woman shivered from head to foot; and raising her eyes to his face, sobbed once more.
“The best of her is,” said the dwarf; “the best of her is that she’s so meek, and she’s so mild, and she has such an insinuating mother!”
Mr. Quilp stooped slowly down, and down, and down, until came between his wife’s eyes and the floor.
“Mrs. Quilp!”
“Yes, Quilp.”
“Am I nice to look at? Am I the handsomest creature in the world, Mrs. Quilp?”
Mrs. Quilp dutifully replied, “Yes, Quilp.”
“If ever you listen to these witches, I’ll bite you.”
Mr. Quilp bade her clear the tea-board away, and bring the rum. Then he ordered cold water and the box of cigars; and after that he settled himself in an arm-chair with his little legs planted on the table.
The next day the dwarf was at the Quilp’s Wharf.
“Here’s somebody for you,” said the boy to Quilp.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ask!” said Quilp. “Ask, you dog.”
A little girl presented herself at the door.
“What, Nelly!” cried Quilp.
“Yes,” said the child; “it’s only me, sir.”
“Come in,” said Quilp. “Now come in and shut the door. What’s your message, Nelly?”
The child handed him a letter; Mr. Quilp began to read it. Little Nell stood timidly by and waited for his reply.
“Nelly!” said Mr. Quilp.
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you know what’s inside this letter, Nell? “
“No, sir!”
“Are you sure, quite sure, quite certain?”
“Quite sure, sir.”
“Well!” muttered Quilp. “I believe you. Hm! Gone already? Gone in four-and-twenty hours. What the devil has he done with it? That’s the mystery!”
He began to bite his nails.
“You look very pretty today, Nelly, charmingly pretty. Are you tired, Nelly?”
“No, sir. I’m in a hurry to get back.”
“There’s no hurry, little Nell, no hurry at all,” said Quilp. “How should you like to be my number two, Nelly?”
“To be what, sir?”
“My number two, Nelly; my second; my Mrs. Quilp,” said the dwarf.
The child looked frightened, but seemed not to understand him. Mr. Quilp hastened to explain his meaning more distinctly.