Крошка Доррит

Chapter 9. Little Mother

           Hefanciedthatalthoughtheyhadbeforethem,everyday,themeansofcomparisonbetweenherandoneanotherandthemselves,theyregardedherasbeinginhernecessaryplace;asholdingapositiontowardsthemallwhichbelongedtoher,likehernameorherage.Hefanciedthattheyviewedher,notashavingrisenawayfromtheprisonatmosphere,butasappertainingtoit;asbeingvaguelywhattheyhadarighttoexpect,andnothingmore.

           Heruncleresumedhisbreakfast,andwasmunchingtoastsoppedincoffee,obliviousofhisguest,whenthethirdbellrang.ThatwasAmy,hesaid,andwentdowntoletherin;leavingthevisitorwithasvividapictureonhismindofhisbegrimedhands,dirt-wornface,anddecayedfigure,asifhewerestilldroopinginhischair.

           Shecameupafterhim,intheusualplaindress,andwiththeusualtimidmanner.Herlipswerealittleparted,asifherheartbeatfasterthanusual.

           ‘MrClennam,Amy,’saidheruncle,‘hasbeenexpectingyousometime.’

           ‘Itookthelibertyofsendingyouamessage.’

           ‘Ireceivedthemessage,sir.’

           ‘Areyougoingtomymother’sthismorning?Ithinknot,foritispastyourusualhour.’

           ‘Notto-day,sir.Iamnotwantedto-day.’

           ‘WillyouallowMetowalkalittlewayinwhateverdirectionyoumaybegoing?Icanthenspeaktoyouaswewalk,bothwithoutdetainingyouhere,andwithoutintrudinglongerheremyself.’

           Shelookedembarrassed,butsaid,ifhepleased.

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