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Book The Second - Reaping | Charles Dickens | |
Chapter VIII - Explosion |
Page 2 of 9 |
'Harthouse!' cried Mr. Bounderby. 'Have you heard?' 'Heard what?' said Harthouse, soothing his horse, and inwardly favouring Mr. Bounderby with no good wishes. 'Then you haven't heard!' 'I have heard you, and so has this brute. I have heard nothing else.' Mr. Bounderby, red and hot, planted himself in the centre of the path before the horse's head, to explode his bombshell with more effect. 'The Bank's robbed!' 'You don't mean it!' 'Robbed last night, sir. Robbed in an extraordinary manner. Robbed with a false key.' 'Of much?' Mr. Bounderby, in his desire to make the most of it, really seemed mortified by being obliged to reply, 'Why, no; not of very much. But it might have been.' 'Of how much?' 'Oh! as a sum - if you stick to a sum - of not more than a hundred and fifty pound,' said Bounderby, with impatience. 'But it's not the sum; it's the fact. It's the fact of the Bank being robbed, that's the important circumstance. I am surprised you don't see it.' 'My dear Bounderby,' said James, dismounting, and giving his bridle to his servant, 'I do see it; and am as overcome as you can possibly desire me to be, by the spectacle afforded to my mental view. Nevertheless, I may be allowed, I hope, to congratulate you - which I do with all my soul, I assure you - on your not having sustained a greater loss.' 'Thank'ee,' replied Bounderby, in a short, ungracious manner. 'But I tell you what. It might have been twenty thousand pound.' |
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Hard Times Charles Dickens |
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