Thank you. A fine old-fashioned watch,' he said,
taking it in his hand. 'Heavy for use, but massive and genuine. I have
a partiality for everything genuine. Such as I am, I am genuine myself.
Hah! A gentleman's watch with two cases in the old fashion. May I remove
it from the outer case? Thank you. Aye? An old silk watch-lining, worked
with beads! I have often seen these among old Dutch people and Belgians.
Quaint things!' 'They are old-fashioned, too,' said Mrs Clennam. 'Very. But this is not
so old as the watch, I think?' 'I think not.'
'Extraordinary how they used to complicate these cyphers!' remarked Mr
Blandois, glancing up with his own smile again. 'Now is this D. N. F.?
It might be almost anything.' 'Those are the letters.'
Mr Flintwinch, who had been observantly pausing all this time with a cup
of tea in his hand, and his mouth open ready to swallow the contents,
began to do so: always entirely filling his mouth before he emptied it
at a gulp; and always deliberating again before he refilled it.
'D. N. F. was some tender, lovely, fascinating fair-creature, I make no
doubt,' observed Mr Blandois, as he snapped on the case again. 'I adore
her memory on the assumption. Unfortunately for my peace of mind,
I adore but too readily. It may be a vice, it may be a virtue, but
adoration of female beauty and merit constitutes three parts of my
character, madam.' Mr Flintwinch had by this time poured himself out another cup of tea,
which he was swallowing in gulps as before, with his eyes directed to
the invalid. 'You may be heart-free here, sir,' she returned to Mr Blandois. 'Those
letters are not intended, I believe, for the initials of any name.'
'Of a motto, perhaps,' said Mr Blandois, casually. 'Of a sentence. They have always stood, I believe, for Do Not Forget!' 'And naturally,' said Mr Blandois, replacing the watch and stepping
backward to his former chair, 'you do not forget.'
Mr Flintwinch, finishing his tea, not only took a longer gulp than he
had taken yet, but made his succeeding pause under new circumstances:
that is to say, with his head thrown back and his cup held still at his
lips, while his eyes were still directed at the invalid. She had that
force of face, and that concentrated air of collecting her firmness or
obstinacy, which represented in her case what would have been gesture
and action in another, as she replied with her deliberate strength of
speech: