suits of clothes, six shirts, six pair of stockings, two nightcaps, two
pocket-handkerchiefs, two pair of shoes, two hats, and a razor.'

'A razor!' exclaimed Mr Snawley, as they walked into the next box. 'What
for?'

'To shave with,' replied Squeers, in a slow and measured tone.

There was not much in these three words, but there must have been
something in the manner in which they were said, to attract attention;
for the schoolmaster and his companion looked steadily at each other for
a few seconds, and then exchanged a very meaning smile. Snawley was a
sleek, flat-nosed man, clad in sombre garments, and long black gaiters,
and bearing in his countenance an expression of much mortification
and sanctity; so, his smiling without any obvious reason was the more
remarkable.

'Up to what age do you keep boys at your school then?' he asked at
length.

'Just as long as their friends make the quarterly payments to my agent
in town, or until such time as they run away,' replied Squeers. 'Let
us understand each other; I see we may safely do so. What are these
boys;--natural children?'

'No,' rejoined Snawley, meeting the gaze of the schoolmaster's one eye.
'They ain't.'

'I thought they might be,' said Squeers, coolly. 'We have a good many of
them; that boy's one.'