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PinkMonkey.com-Nicholas Nickelby by Charles Dickens




1034

festivities, I suppose,’ said Ralph, preparing to depart. ‘See here! I
destroy the bond; we shall never need it now.’

Gride, who had been peering narrowly about the room, fell, at
that moment, upon his knees before a large chest, and uttered a
terrible yell.

‘How now?’ said Ralph, looking sternly round.
‘Robbed! robbed!’ screamed Arthur Gride.
‘Robbed! of money?’

‘No, no, no. Worse! far worse!’
‘Of what then?’ demanded Ralph.
‘Worse than money, worse than money!’ cried the old man,
casting the papers out of the chest, like some beast tearing up the
earth. ‘She had better have stolen money--all my money--I
haven’t much! She had better have made me a beggar than have
done this!’

‘Done what?’ said Ralph. ‘Done what, you devil’s dotard?’
Still Gride made no answer, but tore and scratched among the
papers, and yelled and screeched like a fiend in torment.

‘There is something missing, you say,’ said Ralph, shaking him
furiously by the collar. ‘What is it?’

‘Papers, deeds. I am a ruined man. Lost, lost! I am robbed, I am
ruined! She saw me reading it--reading it of late--I did very
often--She watched me, saw me put it in the box that fitted into
this, the box is gone, she has stolen it. Damnation seize her, she
has robbed me!’

‘Of what?’ cried Ralph, on whom a sudden light appeared to
break, for his eyes flashed and his frame trembled with agitation
as he clutched Gride by his bony arm. ‘Of what?’

‘She don’t know what it is; she can’t read!’ shrieked Gride, not


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