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Chapter 12. Bleeding Heart Yard

           

           Plornishobserved,notsmilinginreturn,Andyethehadn’tthepleasureofbeingacquaintedwiththegentleman,neither.

           ‘No,’saidArthur,‘Iknowyourkindofficesatsecondhand,butonthebestauthority;throughLittleDorrit.—Imean,’heexplained,‘MissDorrit.’

           ‘MrClennam,isit?Oh!I’veheardofyou,Sir.’

           ‘AndIofyou,’saidArthur.

           ‘Pleasetositdownagain,Sir,andconsideryourselfwelcome.—Why,yes,’saidPlornish,takingachair,andliftingtheelderchilduponhisknee,thathemighthavethemoralsupportofspeakingtoastrangeroverhishead,‘IhavebeenonthewrongsideoftheLockmyself,andinthatwaywecometoknowMissDorrit.Meandmywife,wearewellacquaintedwithMissDorrit.’

           ‘Intimate!’criedMrsPlornish.Indeed,shewassoproudoftheacquaintance,thatshehadawakenedsomebitternessofspiritintheYardbymagnifyingtoanenormousamountthesumforwhichMissDorrit’sfatherhadbecomeinsolvent.TheBleedingHeartsresentedherclaimingtoknowpeopleofsuchdistinction.

           ‘ItwasherfatherthatIgotacquaintedwithfirst.Andthroughgettingacquaintedwithhim,yousee—why—Igotacquaintedwithher,’saidPlornishtautologically.

           ‘Isee.’

           ‘Ah!Andthere’smanners!There’spolish!There’sagentlemantohaveruntoseedintheMarshalseajail!Why,perhapsyouarenotaware,’saidPlornish,loweringhisvoice,andspeakingwithaperverseadmirationofwhatheoughttohavepitiedordespised,‘notawarethatMissDorritandhersisterdursn’tlethimknowthattheyworkforaliving.

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