'
'I not a choice spirit?' cried Quilp.
'Devil a bit,sir,' returned Dick. 'A man of your appearance
couldn't be. If you're any spirit at all,sir, you're an evil
spirit. Choice spirits,' added Dick, smiting himself on the breast,
'are quite a different looking sort of people, you may take your
oath of that,sir.'
Quilp glanced at his free-spoken friend with a mingled expression
of cunning and dislike, and wringing his hand almost at the same
moment, declared that he was an uncommon character and had his
warmest esteem. With that they parted; Mr Swiveller to make the
best of his way home and sleep himself sober; and Quilp to cogitate
upon the discovery he had made, and exult in the prospect of the
rich field of enjoyment and reprisal it opened to him.
It was not without great reluctance and misgiving that Mr
Swiveller, next morning, his head racked by the fumes of the
renowned Schiedam, repaired to the lodging of his friend Trent
(which was in the roof of an old house in an old ghostly inn), and
recounted by very slow degrees what had yesterday taken place
between him and Quilp.
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