Мидлмарч

           Featherstone—promised?whosaidIhadeverpromised?Ipromisenothing—IshallmakecodicilsaslongasIlike—andthatconsideringthenatureofsuchaproceeding,itisunreasonabletopresumethatayoungmanofsenseandcharacterwouldattemptit—ah,butthegentlemandoesn’tsayyouareayoungmanofsenseandcharacter,markyouthat,sir!—Astomyownconcernwithanyreportofsuchanature,IdistinctlyaffirmthatInevermadeanystatementtotheeffectthatyoursonhadborrowedmoneyonanypropertythatmightaccruetohimonMr.Featherstone’sdemise—blessmyheart!‘property’—accrue—demise!LawyerStandishisnothingtohim.Hecouldn’tspeakfinerifhewantedtoborrow.Well,"Mr.FeatherstoneherelookedoverhisspectaclesatFred,whilehehandedbackthelettertohimwithacontemptuousgesture,"youdon’tsupposeIbelieveathingbecauseBulstrodewritesitoutfine,eh?"

           Fredcolored."Youwishedtohavetheletter,sir.IshouldthinkitverylikelythatMr.Bulstrode’sdenialisasgoodastheauthoritywhichtoldyouwhathedenies."

           "Everybit.IneversaidIbelievedeitheroneortheother.Andnowwhatd’youexpect?"saidMr.Featherstone,curtly,keepingonhisspectacles,butwithdrawinghishandsunderhiswraps.

           "Iexpectnothing,sir."Fredwithdifficultyrestrainedhimselffromventinghisirritation."Icametobringyoutheletter.IfyoulikeIwillbidyougoodmorning.