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But appearing to remark that Mr. Wickfield went on with
his dinner in the same sedate, immovable manner, and that
there was no hope of making him relax a muscle of his face,
he added: ‘However, I have said what I came to say, and,
with another apology for this intrusion, I may take myself
off. Of course I shall observe your directions, in consider-
ing the matter as one to be arranged between you and me
solely, and not to be referred to, up at the Doctor’s.’
‘Have you dined?’ asked Mr. Wickfield, with a motion of
his hand towards the table.
‘Thank’ee. I am going to dine,’ said Mr. Maldon, ‘with my
cousin Annie. Good-bye!’
Mr. Wickfield, without rising, looked after him thought-
fully as he went out. He was rather a shallow sort of young
gentleman, I thought, with a handsome face, a rapid utter-
ance, and a confident, bold air. And this was the first I ever
saw of Mr. Jack Maldon; whom I had not expected to see so
soon, when I heard the Doctor speak of him that morning.
When we had dined, we went upstairs again, where ev-
erything went on exactly as on the previous day. Agnes
set the glasses and decanters in the same corner, and Mr.
Wickfield sat down to drink, and drank a good deal. Agnes
played the piano to him, sat by him, and worked and talk-
ed, and played some games at dominoes with me. In good
time she made tea; and afterwards, when I brought down
my books, looked into them, and showed me what she knew
of them (which was no slight matter, though she said it was),
and what was the best way to learn and understand them. I
see her, with her modest, orderly, placid manner, and I hear