"
"Then I tell you, Mrs. Furze, and I tell you, Mr. Furze, before the
all-knowing God, who is in this room at this moment, that I am
utterly innocent, and that somebody has wickedly lied."
"Mr. Catchpole," replied Mrs. Furze, "the introduction of the sacred
name in such a conjunction is, I may say, rather shocking, and even
blasphemous. Here is your money: you had better go."
Tom left the money and walked out of the room.
"Good-bye, Phoebe."
"Are you going to leave, Tom?"
"Discharged!"
"I knew there was some villainy going on," said Phoebe, greatly
excited, as she took Tom's hand and wrung it, "but you aren't really
going for good?"
"Yes;" and he was out in the street.
"H'm," said Mr. Furze, "it's very disagreeable. I don't quite like
it."
"Don't quite like it?--why, what WOULD you have done? would you have
had Catharine marry him? I have no patience with you, Furze!"
Mr. Furze subsided, but he did not move to go to his business, and
Mrs. Furze went down into the kitchen. Mr. Eaton had called at the
shop at that early hour wishing to see Mr. Furze or Tom. He was to
return shortly, and Mr. Orkid Jim, not knowing exactly what to do
with such a customer, and, moreover, being rather curious, had left
a boy in charge and walked back to the Terrace.
"There's Jim again at the door," said Mrs. Furze to Phoebe; "let him
in."
"Excuse me, ma'am, but never will I go to the door to let that man
in again as long as I live.
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