"My Bill, sir!" the crying woman pleaded.
"Now, I tell you what!" said Mr. Jaggers. "Once for all. If you don't know that your Bill's in good hands, I know it. And if you come here, bothering about your Bill, I'll make an example of both your Bill and you, and let him slip through my fingers. Have you paid Wemmick?"
"Oh yes, sir! Every farden."
"Very well. Then you have done all you have got to do. Say another word—one single word—and Wemmick shall give you your money back."
This terrible threat caused the two women to fall off immediately. No one remained now but the excitable Jew, who had already raised the skirts of Mr. Jaggers's coat to his lips several times.
"I don't know this man!" said Mr. Jaggers, in the same devastating strain. "What does this fellow want?"
"Ma thear Mithter Jaggerth. Hown brother to Habraham Latharuth!"
"Who's he?" said Mr. Jaggers. "Let go of my coat."
