Charles Dickens,
Little Dorrit — Book 1, Chapter 34
(1857)
“ It would have been so cruel if he had meant it, that Clennam firmly resolved to believe he did not mean it. Gowan, without pausing, laid his hand upon his shoulder, and laughingly and lightly went on:‘Clennam, I don’t like to dispel your generous visions, and I would give any money (if I had any) , to live in such a rose-coloured mist. But what I do in my trade, I do to sell. What all we fellows do, we do to sell. If we didn’t want to sell it for the most we can get for it, we shouldn’t do it. Being work, it has to be done ”
