'Good gracious, Arthur,--I should say Mr Clennam, far more proper--the
climb we have had to get up here and how ever to get down again without
a fire-escape and Mr F.'s Aunt slipping through the steps and bruised
all over and you in the machinery and foundry way too only think, and
never told us!' Thus, Flora, out of breath. Meanwhile, Mr F.'s Aunt rubbed her esteemed
insteps with her umbrella, and vindictively glared.
'Most unkind never to have come back to see us since that day, though
naturally it was not to be expected that there should be any attraction
at our house and you were much more pleasantly engaged, that's pretty
certain, and is she fair or dark blue eyes or black I wonder, not that
I expect that she should be anything but a perfect contrast to me in all
particulars for I am a disappointment as I very well know and you are
quite right to be devoted no doubt though what I am saying Arthur never
mind I hardly know myself Good gracious!'
By this time he had placed chairs for them in the counting-house. As
Flora dropped into hers, she bestowed the old look upon him.
'And to think of Doyce and Clennam, and who Doyce can be,' said Flora;
'delightful man no doubt and married perhaps or perhaps a daughter, now
has he really? then one understands the partnership and sees it all,
don't tell me anything about it for I know I have no claim to ask the
question the golden chain that once was forged being snapped and very
proper.'
Flora put her hand tenderly on his, and gave him another of the youthful
glances. 'Dear Arthur--force of habit, Mr Clennam every way more delicate and
adapted to existing circumstances--I must beg to be excused for taking
the liberty of this intrusion but I thought I might so far presume upon
old times for ever faded never more to bloom as to call with Mr F.'s
Aunt to congratulate and offer best wishes, A great deal superior to
China not to be denied and much nearer though higher up!'
'I am very happy to see you,' said Clennam, 'and I thank you, Flora,
very much for your kind remembrance.'
'More than I can say myself at any rate,' returned Flora, 'for I might
have been dead and buried twenty distinct times over and no doubt
whatever should have been before you had genuinely remembered Me or
anything like it in spite of which one last remark I wish to make, one
last explanation I wish to offer--' 'My dear Mrs Finching,'