Breakfast over, he went to his counting-house. Henry, Joe Scott's boy, brought in the letters and the daily papers; Moore seated himself at his desk, broke the seals of the documents, and glanced them over. They were all short, but not, it seemed, sweet--probably rather sour, on the contrary, for as Moore laid down the last, his nostrils emitted a derisive and defiant snuff, and though he burst into no soliloquy, there was a glance in his eye which seemed to invoke the devil, and lay charges on him to sweep the whole concern to Gehenna. However, having chosen a pen and stripped away the feathered top in a brief spasm of finger-fury (only finger-fury--his face was placid), he dashed off a batch of answers, sealed them, and then went out and walked through the mill. On coming back he sat down to read his newspaper.

Breakfast over, he went to his counting-house. Henry, Joe Scott's boy, brought in the letters; Moore sat down and glanced them over. They were all short, but not, it seemed, sweet - probably rather sour, on the contrary; for as Moore laid down the last, he sniffed derisively, and his eye glittered in anger. He dashed off a batch of answers, sealed them, and then went to walk through the mill. On coming back he sat down to read his newspaper.
