 which stands in my eye at this moment,
is shed for you. It is shed for him, sir. It is shed for him.«
    Here Mr. Pecksniff, accidentally dropping the tear in question on a bald
part of Mr. Chuzzlewit?s head, wiped the place with his pocket-handkerchief, and
begged pardon.
    »It is shed for him, sir, whom you seek to make the victim of your arts,«
said Mr. Pecksniff: »whom you seek to plunder, to deceive, and to mislead. It is
shed in sympathy with him, and admiration of him; not in pity for him, for
happily he knows what you are. You shall not wrong him further, sir, in any
way,« said Mr. Pecksniff, quite transported with enthusiasm, »while I have life.
You may bestride my senseless corse, sir. That is very likely. I can imagine a
mind like yours deriving great satisfaction from any measure of that kind. But
while I continue to be called upon to exist, sir, you must strike at him through
me. Aye!« said Mr. Pecksniff, shaking his head at Martin with indignant
jocularity; »and in such a cause you will find me, my young sir, an Ugly
Customer!«
    Still Martin looked steadily and mildly at his grandfather. »Will you give
me no answer,« he said, at length, »not a word?«
    »You hear what has been said,« replied the old man, without averting his
eyes from the face of Mr. Pecksniff: who nodded encouragingly.
    »I have not heard your voice. I have not heard your spirit,« returned
Martin.
    »Tell him again,« said the old man, still gazing up in Mr. Pecksniff's face.
    »I only hear,« replied Martin, strong in his purpose from the first, and
stronger in it as he felt how Pecksniff winced and shrunk beneath his contempt;
»I only hear what you say to me, grandfather.«
    Perhaps it was well for Mr. Pecksniff that his venerable friend found in his
(Mr. Pecksniff's) features an exclusive and engrossing object of contemplation,
for if his eyes had gone astray, and he had compared young Martin's bearing with
that of his zealous defender, the latter disinterested gentleman would scarcely
have shown to greater advantage than on the memorable afternoon when he took Tom
Pinch's last receipt in full of all demands. One really might have thought there
was some quality in Mr. Pecksniff - an
