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Chapter 32. Going

           ButtheywereovercomebyunutterableamazementwhenMrPancks,goingcloseuptothemostvenerableofmenandhaltinginfrontofthebottle-greenwaistcoat,madeatriggerofhisrightthumbandforefinger,appliedthesametothebrimofthebroad-brimmedhat,and,withsingularsmartnessandprecision,shotitoffthepolishedheadasifithadbeenalargemarble.

           HavingtakenthislittlelibertywiththePatriarchalperson,MrPancksfurtherastoundedandattractedtheBleedingHeartsbysayinginanaudiblevoice,‘Now,yousugaryswindler,Imeantohaveitoutwithyou!’

           MrPancksandthePatriarchwereinstantlythecentreofapress,alleyesandears;windowswerethrownopen,anddoor-stepswerethronged.

           ‘Whatdoyoupretendtobe?’saidMrPancks.‘What’syourmoralgame?Whatdoyougoinfor?Benevolence,an’tit?Youbenevolent!’HereMrPancks,apparentlywithouttheintentionofhittinghim,butmerelytorelievehismindandexpendhissuperfluouspowerinwholesomeexercise,aimedablowatthebumpyhead,whichthebumpyheadduckedtoavoid.Thissingularperformancewasrepeated,totheever-increasingadmirationofthespectators,attheendofeverysucceedingarticleofMrPancks’soration.

           ‘Ihavedischargedmyselffromyourservice,’saidPancks,‘thatImaytellyouwhatyouare.You’reoneofalotofimpostorsthataretheworstlotofallthelotstobemetwith.Speakingasasuffererbyboth,Idon’tknowthatIwouldn’tassoonhavetheMerdlelotasyourlot.

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