Bless you for doing right, sir.

Bless you for hating me.

And good night!' So saying, Mr Pecksniff waved his right hand with much solemnity, and once more inserting it in his waistcoat, departed.

There was emotion in his manner, but his step was firm.

Subject to human weaknesses, he was upheld by conscience.
Martin lay for some time, with an expression on his face of silent wonder, not unmixed with rage; at length he muttered in a whisper: 'What does this mean?
Can the false-hearted boy have chosen such a tool as yonder fellow who has just gone out?
Why not! He has conspired against me, like the rest, and they are but birds of one feather.