"In your present humor, Mr. Titmouse, it would be in vain to discuss the matter," said Mr. Quirk, sternly. "Again I tell you that the course we have recommended is, in our opinion, the proper one; excuse me if I add, that you are entirely in our hands--and if I ask you--what _can_ you do but adopt our advice?" "Why, hang me if I won't employ somebody else--that's flat! S' elp me, Heaven, I will! So, good-night, gents; you'll find that Tittlebat Titmouse isn't to be trifled with!" So saying, Mr. Titmouse clapped his hat on his head, bounced out of the room, and, no attempt being made to stop him, he was in the street in a twinkling. Mr. Gammon gazed at Mr. Quirk with a look, the significance of which the astounded old gentleman thoroughly understood--'twas compounded of triumph, reproach, and apprehension. "Did you ever see such a little beast!" exclaimed Mr. Quirk, with an air of disgust, turning to Mr. Snap. "Beggar on horseback!" exclaimed Snap, with a bitter sneer. "It won't do, however," said Mr. Quirk, with a most chagrined and apprehensive air, "for him to go at large in his present frame of mind--he may ruin the thing altogether"---- "As good as £500 a-year out of the way of the office," quoth Snap. "It cannot be helped _now_," said Mr. Gammon, with a sigh of vexation, turning to Mr. Quirk, and seizing his hat--"he must be managed--so I'll go after him instantly, and bring him back at all hazards; and we must really try and do something for him in the meanwhile, to keep him quiet till the thing's brought a little into train." So out went after Titmouse, Mr. Gammon, from whose lips dropped persuasion sweeter than honey;[3] and I should not be surprised if he were to succeed in bringing back that little stubborn piece of conceited stupidity. As soon as Mr. Titmouse heard the street door shut after him with a kind of _bang_, he snapped his fingers once or twice, by way of letting off a little of the inflammable air that was in him, and muttered, "Pretty chaps those, upon my soul!" said he, disdainfully. "I'll expose them all! I'll apply to the lord-mayor--they're a pack of swindlers, they are! This is the way they treat _me_, who've got a title to £10,000 a-year! To be sure"--He stood still for a moment--and another moment--and another--and then dismay came quickly over him; for the thought suddenly occurred to his partially obfuscated intellect--what _hold_ had he got on Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap?--what _could_ he do?--or rather, what HAD he done? Ah--the golden vision of the last few hours was fading away momentarily, like a dream! Each second of his deep and rapid reflection, rendered more impetuous his desire and determination to return and make his peace with Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap. By submission for the present, he could get the whip-hand of them hereafter! He was in the act of turning round towards the office, when Mr. Gammon gently laid his hand upon the shoulder of his repentant client.