David Copperfield
possible - at a sacrifice on our part of some portion of the
premium, of course,’ I put in this, on the spur of the mo-
ment, warned by the blank expression of his face - ‘to cancel
my articles?’
What it cost me to make this proposal, nobody knows. It
was like asking, as a favour, to be sentenced to transporta-
tion from Dora.
‘To cancel your articles, Copperfield? Cancel?’
I explained with tolerable firmness, that I really did not
know where my means of subsistence were to come from,
unless I could earn them for myself. I had no fear for the
future, I said - and I laid great emphasis on that, as if to im-
ply that I should still be decidedly eligible for a son-in-law
one of these days - but, for the present, I was thrown upon
my own resources. ‘I am extremely sorry to hear this, Cop-
perfield,’ said Mr. Spenlow. ‘Extremely sorry. It is not usual
to cancel articles for any such reason. It is not a professional
course of proceeding. It is not a convenient precedent at all.
Far from it. At the same time -’
‘You are very good, sir,’ I murmured, anticipating a con-
cession.
‘Not at all. Don’t mention it,’ said Mr. Spenlow. ‘At the
same time, I was going to say, if it had been my lot to have
my hands unfettered - if I had not a partner - Mr. Jorkins -’
My hopes were dashed in a moment, but I made another
effort.
‘Do you think, sir,’ said I, ‘if I were to mention it to Mr.
Jorkins -’
Mr. Spenlow shook his head discouragingly. ‘Heaven