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Updated: June 20, 2025
He threatened. "Mr Nanjivell gave it to me," he repeated, and, seeing her taken aback, soared upon the wing of falsehood. "Mother's changing houses, an' Mr Nanjivell said I'd behaved so quiet I deserved a penny if ever a boy did in this world." "A penny?" Miss Oliver echoed. "But where did he how did he come across that kind of penny? Such a bright penny, I mean."
Nicky-Nan thrust his hands in his trouser-pockets and limped towards him. "If you please, sir " Mr Pamphlett faced about, displaying a broad white waistcoat and a ponderous gold watch-chain. "Ah! Nanjivell?" "If you please, sir " Nicky-Nan, now balanced on his sound leg, withdrew a hand from his pocket and touched his cap. "I've been waitin' your convenience." "Busy times," said Mr Pamphlett.
But if Nicholas Nanjivell, here, chooses to play father to the fatherless an' cover up the sins of the children that go an' break his parlour windows afore my very eyes, well, 'tisn't for me to say more than I hope no harm'll come of it." She was preparing to say more. If she said more, Nicky-Nan did not hear it.
"You've such a knack of taking me up before I'm down, Mary-Martha! I never said nor implied that Mr Nanjivell had won his money on a horse-race. I only said that some people did."
It would be a mighty fine thing though a novelty in Polpier to have one's memory kept alive in this fashion. . . . He would lord it in life too, as became a Nanjivell albeit the last of the race.
"Where did you get that?" Miss Oliver's eyes were notoriously sharp. Her voice rapped out the question in a way that made 'Biades blink and clasp the coin again as he cast a desperate look behind him in search of retreat. "Mr Nanjivell gave it to me." "Mr Nanjivell! . . . He couldn't!" Miss Oliver took a step forward. 'Biades lowered his head. "If you come a step closer I'll butt 'ee!"
"One can't be too careful in these times," said Nicky-Nan with feigned artlessness. "No, indeed! Anything I can do for 'ee in the way of barbed wire?" "No, I thank 'ee." Nicky-Nan's eyes had been wandering around the shop. "But I'll take this small sieve, now I come to think on it." "Certainly, Mr Nanjivell. One-an'-three. Shall I send it for 'ee? No? an' nothing further to-day?
But never you fret: I'm upsides with Pamphlett. This is my house, ma'am: an' here I bide till it pleases me to quit." "O-oh!" sighed Mrs Penhaligon dejectedly, "then it puts me in a very awkward position, if you don't mind my sayin' so." "How is it awkward, ma'am?" asked Nicky-Nan, rubbing his unshaven chin with the point of the trowel. "Well, Mr Nanjivell, I dare say you meant it well enough.
"Well, I heard it took the form of guineas, Mr Nanjivell. But of course I don't wish to be inquisitive." "That devil Pamphlett has been talkin'," muttered Nicky-Nan to himself.
Such was his haste that in passing the corner of the bridge he scarcely observed a knot of children gathered thereby, until 'Beida's voice hailed him and brought him to a halt. "Mr Nanjivell!" "Hey! Is that you, Missy?" Nicky-Nan wheeled half-about. "If you had eyes in your head, you wouldn' be starin' at me," said 'Beida, "but at 'Bert.
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