`Demnition!' cried Mr Mantalini, suddenly skipping out of his chair, and as suddenly skipping into it again, to the great discomposure of his lady's nerves. `But no. It is a demd horrid dream. It is not reality. No!'

Comforting himself with this assurance, Mr Mantalini closed his eyes and waited patiently till such time as he should wake up.

`A very judicious arrangement,' observed Ralph with a sneer, `if your husband will keep within it, ma'am-- as no doubt he will.'

`Demmit!' exclaimed Mr Mantalini, opening his eyes at the sound of Ralph's voice, `it is a horrid reality. She is sitting there before me. There is the graceful outline of her form; it cannot be mistaken--there is nothing like it. The two countesses had no outlines at all, and the dowager's was a demd outline. Why is she so excruciatingly beautiful that I cannot be angry with her, even now?'

`You have brought it upon yourself, Alfred,' returned Madame Mantalini--still reproachfully, but in a softened tone.

`I am a demd villain!' cried Mr Mantalini, smiting himself on the head. `I will fill my pockets with change for a sovereign in halfpence and drown myself in the Thames; but I will not be angry with her, even then, for I will put a note in the twopenny-post as I go along, to tell her where the body is. She will be a lovely widow. I shall be a body. Some handsome women will cry; she will laugh demnebly.'

`Alfred, you cruel, cruel creature,' said Madame Mantalini, sobbing at the dreadful picture.

`She calls me cruel--me--me--who for her sake will become a demd, damp, moist, unpleasant body!' exclaimed Mr Mantalini.

`You know it almost breaks my heart, even to hear you talk of such a thing,' replied Madame Mantalini.

`Can I live to be mistrusted?' cried her husband. `Have I cut my heart into a demd extraordinary number of little pieces, and given them all away, one after another, to the same little engrossing demnition captivater, and can I live to be suspected by her? Demmit, no I can't.'

`Ask Mr Nickleby whether the sum I have mentioned is not a proper one,' reasoned Madame Mantalini.

`I don't want any sum,' replied her disconsolate husband; `I shall require no demd allowance. I will be a body.'

On this repetition of Mr Mantalini's fatal threat, Madame Mantalini wrung her hands, and implored the interference of Ralph Nickleby; and after a great quantity of tears and talking, and several attempts on the part of Mr Mantalini to reach the door, preparatory to straightway committing violence upon himself, that gentleman was prevailed upon, with difficulty, to promise that he wouldn't be a body. This great point attained, Madame Mantalini argued the question of the allowance, and Mr Mantalini did the same, taking occasion to show that he could live with uncommon satisfaction upon bread and water, and go clad in rags, but that he could not support existence with the additional burden of being mistrusted by the object of his most devoted and disinterested affection. This brought fresh tears into Madame Mantalini's eyes, which having just begun to open to some few of the demerits of Mr Mantalini, were only open a very little way, and could be easily closed again. The result was, that without quite giving up the allowance question, Madame Mantalini, postponed its further consideration; and Ralph saw, clearly enough, that Mr Mantalini had gained a fresh lease of his easy life, and that, for some time longer at all events, his degradation and downfall were postponed.

`But it will come soon enough,' thought Ralph; `all love--bah! that I should use the cant of boys and girls-- is fleeting enough; though that which has its sole root in the admiration of a whiskered face like that of


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