'
'Really?' said Mr. Crisparkle again.
'But we do like you, sir, and we see an unmistakable difference
between your house and your reception of us, and anything else we
have ever known. This - and my happening to be alone with you -
and everything around us seeming so quiet and peaceful after Mr.
Honeythunder's departure - and Cloisterham being so old and grave
and beautiful, with the moon shining on it - these things inclined
me to open my heart.'
'I quite understand, Mr. Neville. And it is salutary to listen to
such influences.'
'In describing my own imperfections, sir, I must ask you not to
suppose that I am describing my sister's. She has come out of the
disadvantages of our miserable life, as much better than I am, as
that Cathedral tower is higher than those chimneys.'
Mr. Crisparkle in his own breast was not so sure of this.
'I have had, sir, from my earliest remembrance, to suppress a
deadly and bitter hatred. This has made me secret and revengeful.
I have been always tyrannically held down by the strong hand. This
has driven me, in my weakness, to the resource of being false and
mean. I have been stinted of education, liberty, money, dress, the
very necessaries of life, the commonest pleasures of childhood, the
commonest possessions of youth. This has caused me to be utterly
wanting in I don't know what emotions, or remembrances, or good
instincts - I have not even a name for the thing, you see! - that
you have had to work upon in other young men to whom you have been
accustomed.
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