'I don't like Kit, Sally.'
'Nor I,' rejoined Miss Brass.
'Nor I,' said Sampson.
'Why, that's right!' cried Quilp. 'Half our work is done already.
This Kit is one of your honest people; one of your fair characters;
a prowling prying hound; a hypocrite; a double- faced, white-
livered, sneaking spy; a crouching cur to those that feed and coax
him, and a barking yelping dog to all besides.'
'Fearfully eloquent!' cried Brass with a sneeze. 'Quite
appalling!'
'Come to the point,' said Miss Sally, 'and don't talk so much.'
'Right again!' exclaimed Quilp, with another contemptuous look at
Sampson, 'always foremost! I say, Sally, he is a yelping, insolent
dog to all besides, and most of all, to me. In short, I owe him a
grudge.'
'That's enough, sir,' said Sampson.
'No, it's not enough, sir,' sneered Quilp; 'will you hear me out?
Besides that I owe him a grudge on that account, he thwarts me at
this minute, and stands between me and an end which might otherwise
prove a golden one to us all. Apart from that, I repeat that he
crosses my humour, and I hate him.
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