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Chapter 27. The Pupil of the Marshalsea

           

           Hewasgonebeforeitcametothat;butsoonreturned,sayingexactlyasbefore,‘Here’syourblackbox:’whichhealsoputdownwithcare.

           ‘Iamverysensibleofthisattention.Ihopewemayshakehandsnow,MrJohn.’

           YoungJohn,however,drewback,turninghisrightwristinasocketmadeofhisleftthumbandmiddle-fingerandsaidashehadsaidatfirst,‘Idon’tknowasIcan.No;IfindIcan’t!’Hethenstoodregardingtheprisonersternly,thoughwithaswellinghumourinhiseyesthatlookedlikepity.

           ‘Whyareyouangrywithme,’saidClennam,‘andyetsoreadytodomethesekindservices?Theremustbesomemistakebetweenus.IfIhavedoneanythingtooccasionitIamsorry.’

           ‘Nomistake,sir,’returnedJohn,turningthewristbackwardsandforwardsinthesocket,forwhichitwasrathertight.‘Nomistake,sir,inthefeelingswithwhichmyeyesbeholdyouatthepresentmoment!IfIwasatallfairlyequaltoyourweight,MrClennam—whichIamnot;andifyouweren’tunderacloud—whichyouare;andifitwasn’tagainstallrulesoftheMarshalsea—whichitis;thosefeelingsaresuch,thattheywouldstimulateme,moretohavingitoutwithyouinaRoundonthepresentspotthantoanythingelseIcouldname.’

           Arthurlookedathimforamomentinsomewonder,andsomelittleanger.‘Well,well!’hesaid.‘Amistake,amistake!’Turningaway,hesatdownwithaheavysighinthefadedchairagain.

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