“Just so, Sophronia.”

“Is there nothing to be done with them?”

“What is there to be done with them, Sophronia?”

She cast about in her thoughts again, and he kept his eye upon her as before.

“Of course I have repeatedly thought of the Boffins, Sophronia,” he resumed, after a fruitless silence; “but I have seen my way to nothing. They are well guarded. That infernal Secretary stands between them and — people of merit.”

“If he could be got rid of?” said she, brightening a little, after more casting about.

“Take time, Sophronia,” observed her watchful husband, in a patronizing manner.

“If working him out of the way could be presented in the light of a service to Mr Boffin?”

“Take time, Sophronia.”

“We have remarked lately, Alfred, that the old man is turning very suspicious and distrustful.”

“Miserly too, my dear; which is far the most unpromising for us. Nevertheless, take time, Sophronia, take time.”

She took time and then said:

“Suppose we should address ourselves to that tendency in him of which we have made ourselves quite sure. Suppose my conscience—”

“And we know what a conscience it is, my soul. Yes?”

“Suppose my conscience should not allow me to keep to myself any longer what that upstart girl told me of the Secretary’s having made a declaration to her. Suppose my conscience should oblige me to repeat it to Mr Boffin.”

“I rather like that,” said Lammle.

“Suppose I so repeated it to Mr Boffin, as to insinuate that my sensitive delicacy and honor—”

“Very good words, Sophronia.”

“— As to insinuate that our sensitive delicacy and honor,” she resumed, with a bitter stress upon the phrase, “would not allow us to be silent parties to so mercenary and designing a speculation on the Secretary’s part, and so gross a breach of faith towards his confiding employer. Suppose I had imparted my virtuous uneasiness to my excellent husband, and he had said, in his integrity, ‘Sophronia, you must immediately disclose this to Mr Boffin.’ ”

“Once more, Sophronia,” observed Lammle, changing the leg on which he stood, “I rather like that.”

“You remark that he is well guarded,” she pursued. “I think so too. But if this should lead to his discharging his Secretary, there would be a weak place made.”

“Go on expounding, Sophronia. I begin to like this very much.”

“Having, in our unimpeachable rectitude, done him the service of opening his eyes to the treachery of the person he trusted, we shall have established a claim upon him and a confidence with him. Whether