“Do you sell all your friends?”
Rigaud took his cigarette from his mouth, and eyed him with a momentary revelation of surprise. But he put it between his lips again, as he answered with coolness:
“I sell anything that commands a price. How do your lawyers live, your politicians, your intriguers, your men of the Exchange? How do you live? How do you come here? Have you sold no friend? Lady of mine! I rather think yes!”
Clennam turned away from him towards the window, and sat looking out at the wall.
“Effectively, sir,” said Rigaud, “Society sells itself and sells me; and I sell Society.”
- Little Dorrit, book 2, chap. 28