Pegler's appeal, and at each succeeding syllable became more and
more round-eyed. Mr. Bounderby still walking up and down when Mrs.
Pegler had done, Mr. Gradgrind addressed that maligned old lady:
'I am surprised, madam,' he observed with severity, 'that in your
old age you have the face to claim Mr. Bounderby for your son,
after your unnatural and inhuman treatment of him.'
'Me unnatural!' cried poor old Mrs. Pegler. 'Me inhuman! To my
dear boy?'
'Dear!' repeated Mr. Gradgrind. 'Yes; dear in his self-made
prosperity, madam, I dare say. Not very dear, however, when you
deserted him in his infancy, and left him to the brutality of a
drunken grandmother.'
'I deserted my Josiah!' cried Mrs. Pegler, clasping her hands.
'Now, Lord forgive you, sir, for your wicked imaginations, and for
your scandal against the memory of my poor mother, who died in my
arms before Josiah was born. May you repent of it, sir, and live
to know better!'
She was so very earnest and injured, that Mr. Gradgrind, shocked by
the possibility which dawned upon him, said in a gentler tone:
'Do you deny, then, madam, that you left your son to - to be
brought up in the gutter?'
'Josiah in the gutter!' exclaimed Mrs.
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