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CHAPTER 29: Of the Proceedings of Nicholas (continued)
'She must be VERY beautiful,' said Smike, after thinking a little while with his hands folded together, and his eyes bent upon his friend.
'Anybody who didn't know you as well as I do, my dear fellow, would say you were an accomplished courtier,' said Nicholas.
'I don't even know what that is,' replied Smike, shaking his head. 'Shall I ever see your sister?'
'To be sure,' cried Nicholas; 'we shall all be together one of these days--when we are rich, Smike.'
'How is it that you, who are so kind and good to me, have nobody to be kind to you?' asked Smike. 'I cannot make that out.'
'Why, it is a long story,' replied Nicholas, 'and one you would have some difficulty in comprehending, I fear. I have an enemy--you understand what that is?'
'Oh, yes, I understand that,' said Smike.
'Well, it is owing to him,' returned Nicholas. 'He is rich, and not so easily punished as YOUR old enemy, Mr Squeers. He is my uncle, but he is a villain, and has done me wrong.'
'Has he though?' asked Smike, bending eagerly forward. 'What is his name? Tell me his name.'
'Ralph Nickleby,' repeated Smike. 'Ralph. I'll get that name by heart.'
He had muttered it over to himself some twenty times, when a loud knock at the door disturbed him from his occupation. Before he could open it, Mr Folair, the pantomimist, thrust in his head.
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