Little Dorrit - Page 300/462

'Thank you. Good evening.' The dismissal, and its accompanying 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 come 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 come here to see you?' 'I don't know, ma'am,' said Little Dorrit, with perfect frankness. 'You know that he does come here to see you?' 'I have fancied so,' said Little Dorrit. 'But why he should come 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

composure. 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.'