One day, very soon after I began office-life, Benson sent me out to get him some fancy notepaper, and when I came back I saw the red-haired Mr. Burton standing by the desk and looking rather more sickly and cross than usual.  I laid down the paper and the change, and asked if Benson wanted anything else.  He thanked me exceedingly kindly, and said, “No,” and I went out of the enclosure and back to the corner where I had been cutting out some newspaper extracts for my uncle.  At the same time I drew from under my overcoat which was lying there, an old railway volume of one of Cooper’s novels which Charlie had lent me.  I ought not to have been reading novels in office-hours, but I had had to stop short last night because my candle went out just at the most exciting point, and I had had no time to see what became of everybody before I started for town in the morning.  I could bear suspense no longer, and plunged into my book.

How it was in these circumstances that I heard what the two clerks were saying, I don’t know.  They talked constantly in these open enclosures, when they knew I was within hearing.  On this occasion I suppose they thought I had gone out, and it was some minutes before I discovered that they were talking of me.  Burton spoke first, and in an irritated tone.

“You treat this young shaver precious different to the last one.”

The Jew spoke very softly, and with an occasional softening of the consonants in his words.  “How obsherving you are!” said he.

Burton snorted.  “It don’t take much observation to see that.  But I suppose you have your reasons.  You Jews are always so sly.  That’s how you get on so, I suppose.”

“You Gentiles,” replied Moses (and the Jew’s voice had tones which gave him an infinite advantage in retaliating scorn), “you Gentiles would do as well as we do if you were able to foresee and knew how to wait.  You have all the selfishness for success, my dear, but the gifts of prophecy and patience are wanting to you.”

“That’s nothing to do with your little game about the boy,” said Burton; “however, I suppose you can keep your own secrets.”

“I have no secrets,” said Moses gently.  “And if you take my advice, you never will have.  If you have no secrets, my dear, they will never be found out.  If you tell your little designs, your best friends will be satisfied, and will not invent less creditable ones for you.”

“If they did, you’d talk ’em down,” said Burton roughly.  “Short of a woman I never met such a hand at jaw.  You’ll be in Parliament yet——­” ("It is possible!” said the Jew hastily,) “with that long tongue of yours.  But you haven’t told us about the boy, for all you’ve said.”

“About this boy,” said Moses, “a proverb will be shorter than my jaw.  ‘The son of the house is not a servant for ever.’  As to the other—­he was taken for charity and dismissed for theft, is it not so?  He came from the dirt, and he went back to the dirt.  They often do.  Why should I be civil to him?”