Explore "The Mill on the Floss" by George Eliot on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"And now we've settled this Newcastle business, Tom," said Mr. Deane, that same afternoon, as they were seated in the private room at the Bank together, "there's another matter I want to talk to you about. Since you're likely to have rather a smoky, unpleasant time of it at Newcastle for the next few weeks, you'll want a good prospect of some sort to keep up your spirits."
Tom waited less nervously than he had done on a former occasion in this apartment, while his uncle took out his snuffbox and gratified each nostril with deliberate impartiality.