“A bad one! I’ll eat my head if he is clarisonic mia not a bad one,” growled Mr.
Grimwig, speaking by some ventriloquial power, without moving a
muscle of his face. r
“He is a child of a noble nature and a warm heart,” said Rose,
colouring; “and that Power which has thought fit to try him
beyond his years, has planted in his breast affections and feelings
which would do honour to many who have numbered his days six
times over.”
“I’m only sixty-one,” said Mr. Grimwig, with the same rigid
face. “And, as the devil’s in it if this Oliver is not twelve years old
at least, I don’t see the application of that remark.”
“Do not heed my friend, Miss Maylie,” said Mr. Brownlow; “he
does not mean what he says.”
“Yes, he does,” growled Mr. Grimwig.
“No, he does not,” said Mr. Brownlow, obviously rising in wrath
as he spoke.