Mistress Affery dreamed that the figure of her lord here began walking
up and down the room, as if to cool his spleen, and that she ran away;
but that, as he did not issue forth when she had stood listening and
trembling in the shadowy hall a little time, she crept up-stairs again,
impelled as before by ghosts and curiosity, and once more cowered
outside the door. 'Please to light the candle, Flintwinch,' Mrs Clennam was saying,
apparently wishing to draw him back into their usual tone. 'It is nearly
time for tea. Little Dorrit is coming, and will find me in the dark.'
Mr Flintwinch lighted the candle briskly, and said as he put it down
upon the table: 'What are you going to do with Little Dorrit? Is she to come to work
here for ever? To come to tea here for ever? To come backwards and
forwards here, in the same way, for ever?' 'How can you talk about "for
ever" to a maimed creature like me? Are we not all cut down like the
grass of the field, and was not I shorn by the scythe many years ago:
since when I have been lying here, waiting to be gathered into the
barn?' 'Ay, ay! But since you have been lying here--not near dead--nothing like
it--numbers of children and young people, blooming women, strong men,
and what not, have been cut down and carried; and still here are you,
you see, not much changed after all. Your time and mine may be a long
one yet. When I say for ever, I mean (though I am not poetical) through
all our time.' Mr Flintwinch gave this explanation with great calmness,
and calmly waited for an answer.
'So long as Little Dorrit is quiet and industrious, and stands in need
of the slight help I can give her, and deserves it; so long, I suppose,
unless she withdraws of her own act, she will continue to come here, I
being spared.' 'Nothing more than that?' said Flintwinch, stroking his mouth and chin. 'What should there be more than that! What could there be more than
that!' she ejaculated in her sternly wondering way.
Mrs Flintwinch dreamed, that, for the space of a minute or two, they
remained looking at each other with the candle between them, and
that she somehow derived an impression that they looked at each other
fixedly. 'Do you happen to know, Mrs Clennam,' Affery's liege lord then demanded
in a much lower voice, and with an amount of expression that seemed
quite out of proportion to the simple purpose of his words, 'where she
lives?' 'No.' 'Would you--now, would you like to know?' said Jeremiah with a pounce as
if he had sprung upon her. 'If I cared to know, I should know already. Could I not have asked her
any day?' 'Then you don't care to know?'