'Faith, madam, no; I am neither born nor bred in England. In effect, I
am of no country,' said Mr Blandois, stretching out his leg and smiting
it: 'I descend from half-a-dozen countries.'
'You have been much about the world?'
'It is true. By Heaven, madam, I have been here and there and
everywhere!' 'You have no ties, probably. Are not married?'
'Madam,' said Mr Blandois, with an ugly fall of his eyebrows, 'I adore
your sex, but I am not married--never was.'
Mistress Affery, who stood at the table near him, pouring out the tea,
happened in her dreamy state to look at him as he said these words, and
to fancy that she caught an expression in his eyes which attracted her
own eyes so that she could not get them away. The effect of this fancy
was to keep her staring at him with the tea-pot in her hand, not only to
her own great uneasiness, but manifestly to his, too; and, through them
both, to Mrs Clennam's and Mr Flintwinch's. Thus a few ghostly moments
supervened, when they were all confusedly staring without knowing why.
'Affery,' her mistress was the first to say, 'what is the matter with
you?' 'I don't know,' said Mistress Affery, with her disengaged left hand
extended towards the visitor. 'It ain't me. It's him!'
'What does this good woman mean?' cried Mr Blandois, turning white, hot,
and slowly rising with a look of such deadly wrath that it contrasted
surprisingly with the slight force of his words. 'How is it possible to
understand this good creature?'
'It's NOT possible,' said Mr Flintwinch, screwing himself rapidly
in that direction. 'She don't know what she means. She's an idiot, a
wanderer in her mind. She shall have a dose, she shall have such a dose!
Get along with you, my woman,' he added in her ear, 'get along with you,
while you know you're Affery, and before you're shaken to yeast.'
Mistress Affery, sensible of the danger in which her identity stood,
relinquished the tea-pot as her husband seized it, put her apron over
her head, and in a twinkling vanished. The visitor gradually broke into
a smile, and sat down again. 'You'll excuse her, Mr Blandois,' said Jeremiah, pouring out the tea
himself, 'she's failing and breaking up; that's what she's about. Do you
take sugar, sir?' 'Thank you, no tea for me.--Pardon my observing it, but that's a very
remarkable watch!'
The tea-table was drawn up near the sofa, with a small interval between
it and Mrs Clennam's own particular table. Mr Blandois in his gallantry
had risen to hand that lady her tea (her dish of toast was already
there), and it was in placing the cup conveniently within her reach that
the watch, lying before her as it always did, attracted his attention.
Mrs Clennam looked suddenly up at him. 'May I be permitted?