for his society； to resort to a tavern in the neighbourhood to look at
the shipping news and closing prices in the evening paper； and even to
exchange Small socialities with mercantile Sea Captains who frequented
that establishment。 At some period of every day； he and Mrs Clennam held
a council on matters of business； and it appeared to Affery； who was
always groping about； listening and watching； that the two clever ones
were making money。
The state of mind into which Mr Flintwinch's dazed lady had fallen； had
now begun to be so expressed in all her looks and actions that she was
held in very low account by the two clever ones； as a person； never
of strong intellect； who was being foolish。 Perhaps because her
appearance was not of a mercial cast； or perhaps because it occurred
to him that his having taken her to wife might expose his judgment to
doubt in the minds of customers； Mr Flintwinch laid his mands upon
her that she should hold her peace on the subject of her conjugal
relations； and should no longer call him Jeremiah out of the domestic
trio。 Her frequent forgetfulness of this admonition intensified her
startled manner； since Mr Flintwinch's habit of avenging himself on her
remissness by making springs after her on the staircase； and shaking
her； occasioned her to be always nervously uncertain when she might be
thus waylaid next。
Little Dorrit had finished a long day's work in Mrs Clennam's room； and
was neatly gathering up her shreds and odds and ends before going home。
Mr Pancks； whom Affery had just shown in； was addressing an inquiry to
Mrs Clennam on the subject of her health； coupled with the remark that；
'happening to find himself in that direction；' he had looked in to
inquire； on behalf of his proprietor； how she found herself。 Mrs
Clennam； with a deep contraction of her brows； was looking at him。
'Mr Casby knows；' said she； 'that I am not subject to changes。 The
change that I await here is the great change。'
'Indeed； ma'am？' returned Mr Pancks； with a wandering eye towards the
figure of the little seamstress on her knee picking threads and fraying
of her work from the carpet。 'You look nicely； ma'am。'
'I bear what I have to bear；' she answered。 'Do you what you have to
do。' 'Thank you； ma'am；' said Mr Pancks； 'such is my endeavour。'
'You are often in this direction； are you not？' asked Mrs Clennam。
'Why； yes； ma'am；' said Pancks； 'rather so lately； I have lately been
round this way a good deal； owing to one thing and another。' 'Beg Mr
Casby and his daughter not to trouble themselves； by deputy； about me。
When they wish to see me； they know I am here to see them。 They have no
need to trouble themselves to send。 You have no need to trouble yourself
to e。' 'Not the least trouble； ma'am；' said Mr Pancks。 'You really
are looking unmonly nicely； ma'am。'
'Thank you。 Good evening。'
The dismissal； and its acpanying finger pointed straight at the door；
was so curt and direct that Mr Pancks did not see his way to prolong his
visit。 He stirred up his hair with his sprightliest expression； glanced
at the little figure again； said 'Good evening； ma 'am； don't e down；
Mrs Affery； I know the road to the door；' and steamed out。 Mrs Clennam；
her chin resting on her hand； followed him with attentive and darkly
distrustful eyes； and Affery stood looking at her as if she were
spell…bound。
Slowly and thoughtfully； Mrs Clennam's eyes turned from the door by
which Pancks had gone out； to Little Dorrit； rising from the carpet。
With her chin drooping more heavily on her hand； and her eyes vigilant
and lowering； the sick woman sat looking at her until she attracted her
attention。 Little Dorrit coloured under such a gaze； and looked down。
Mrs Clennam still sat intent。
'Little Dorrit；' she said； when she at last broke silence； 'what do you
know of that man？'
'I don't know anything of him； ma'am； except that I have seen him about；
and that he has spoken to me。'
'What has he said to you？'
'I don't understand what he has said； he is so strange。 But nothing
rough or disagreeable。'
'Why does he e here to see you？'
'I don't know； ma'am；' said Little Dorrit； with perfect frankness。
'You know that he does e here to see you？'
'I have fancied so；' said Little Dorrit。 'But why he should e here or
anywhere for that； ma'am； I can't think。'
Mrs Clennam cast her eyes towards the ground； and with her strong； set
face； as intent upon a subject in her mind as it had lately been upon
the form that seemed to pass out of her view； sat absorbed。 Some minutes
elapsed before she came out of this thoughtfulness； and resumed her hard
posure。
Little Dorrit in the meanwhile had been waiting to go； but afraid to
disturb her by moving。 She now ventured to leave the spot where she
had been standing since she had risen； and to pass gently round by the
wheeled chair。 She stopped at its side to say 'Good night； ma'am。'
Mrs Clennam put out her hand； and laid it on her arm。 Little Dorrit；
confused under the touch； stood faltering。 Perhaps some momentary
recollection of the story of the Princess may have been in her mind。
'Tell me； Little Dorrit；' said Mrs Clennam； 'have you many friends now？'
'Very few； ma'am。 Besides you； only Miss Flora and……one more。'
'Meaning；' said Mrs Clennam； with her unbent finger again pointing to
the door； 'that man？'
'Oh no； ma'am！'
'Some friend of his； perhaps？'
'No ma'am。' Little Dorrit earnestly shook her head。 'Oh no！ No one at
all like him； or belonging to him。'
'Well！' said Mrs Clennam； almost smiling。 'It is no affair of mine。 I
ask； because I take an interest in you； and because I believe I was your
friend when you had no other who could serve you。 Is that so？'
'Yes； ma'am； indeed it is。 I have been here many a time when； but for
you and the work you gave me； we should have wanted everything。'
'We；' repeated Mrs Clennam； looking towards the watch； once her dead
husband's； which always lay upon her table。 'Are there many of you？'
'Only father and I； now。 I mean； only father and I to keep regularly out
of what we get。'
'Have you undergone many privations？ You and your father and who else
there may be of you？' asked Mrs Clennam； speaking deliberately； and
meditatively turning the watch over and over。
'Sometimes it has been rather hard to live；' said Little Dorrit； in her
soft voice； and timid unplaining way； 'but I think not harder……as to
that……than many people find it。'
'That's well said！' Mrs Clennam quickly returned。 'That's the truth！
You are a good； thoughtful girl。 You are a grateful girl too； or I much
mistake you。'
'It is only natural to be that。 There is no merit in being that；' said
Little Dorrit。 'I am indeed。' Mrs Clennam； with a gentleness of which
the dreaming Affery had never dreamed her to be capable； drew down the
face of her little seamstress； and kissed her on the forehead。 'Now go；
Little Dorrit；' said she；'or you will be late； poor child！'
In all the dreams Mistress Affery had been piling up since she first
became devoted to the pursuit； she had dreamed nothing more astonishing
than this。 Her head ached with the idea that she would find the other
clever one kissing Little Dorrit next； and then the two clever ones
embracing each other and dissolving into tears of tenderness for all
mankind。 The idea quite stunned her； as she attended the light footsteps
down the stairs； that the house door might be safely shut。
On opening it to let Little Dorrit out； she found Mr Pancks； instead
of having gone his way； as in any less wonderful place and among less
wonderful phenomena he might have been reasonably expected to do；
fluttering up and down the court outside the house。
The moment he saw Little Dorrit； he passed her briskly； said with his
finger to his nose （as Mrs Affery distinctly heard）； 'Pancks the gipsy；
fortune…telling；' and went away。 'Lord save us； here's a gipsy and a
fortune…teller in it now！' cried Mistress Affery。 'What next！ She stood
at the open door； staggering herself with this enigma； on a rainy；
thundery evening。 The clouds were flying fast； and the wind was ing
up in gusts； banging some neighbouring shutters that had broken loose；
twirling the rusty chimney…cowls and weather…cocks； and rushing round
and round a confined adjacent churchyard as if it had a mind to blow
the dead citizens out of their graves。 The low thunder； muttering in
all quarters of the sky at once； seemed to threaten vengeance for this
attempted desecration； and to mutter； 'Let them rest！ Let them rest！'
Mistress Affery； whose fear of thunder and lightning was only to
be equalled by her dread of the haunted house with a premature and
preternatural darkness in it； stood undecided whether to go in or not；
until the question was settled for her by the door blowing upon her in
a violent gust of wind and shutting her out。 'What's to be done now；
what's to be done now！' cried Mistress Affery； wringing her hands in
this last uneasy dream of all； 'when she's all alone by herself
inside； and can no more e down to open it than the churchyard dead
themselves！'
In this dilemma； Mistress Affery； with her apron as a hood to keep the
rain off； ran crying up and down the solitary paved enclosure several
times。 Why she should then stoop down and look in at the keyhole of the
door as if an eye would open it； it would be difficult to say； but it
is none the less what most people would have done in the same situation；
and it is what she did。
From this posture she started up suddenly； with a half scream； feeling
something on her shoulder。 It was the touch of a hand； of a man's hand。
The man was dressed like a traveller； in a foraging cap with fur about
it； and a heap of cloak。 He looked like a foreigner。 He had a quantity
of hair and moustache……jet black； except at the shaggy ends； where
it had a tinge of red……and a high hook nose。 He laughed at Mistress
Affery's start and cry； and as he laughed； his moustache went up under
his nose； and his nose came down over his moustache。
'What's the matter？' he asked in plain English。 'What are you frightened
at？'
'At you；' panted Affery。
'Me； madam？'
'And the dismal evening； and……and everything；' said Affery。 'And here！
The wind has been and blown the door to； and I can't get in。'
'Hah！' said the gentleman； who took that very coolly。 'Indeed！ Do you
know such a name as Clennam about here？'
'Lord bless us； I should think I did； I should think I did！' cried
Affery； exasperated into a new wringing of hands by the inquiry。
'Where about here？'
'Where！' cried Affery； goaded into another inspection of the keyhole。
'Where but here in this house？ And she's all alone in her room； and lost
the use of her limbs and can't stir to help herself or me； and t'other
clever one's out； and Lord forgive me！' cried Affery； driven into a
frantic dance by these accumulated considerations； 'if I ain't a…going
headlong out of my mind！'
Taking a warmer view of the matter now that it concerned himself； the
gentleman stepped back to glance at the house； and his eye soon rested
on the long narrow window of the little room near the hall…door。
'Where may the lady be who has lost the use of her