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Mrs. Sparsit’s Staircase

           Sparsitwasnotapoeticalwoman;butshetookanideainthenatureofanallegoricalfancy,intoherhead.MuchwatchingofLouisa,andmuchconsequentobservationofherimpenetrabledemeanour,whichkeenlywhettedandsharpenedMrs.Sparsit’sedge,musthavegivenherasitwerealift,inthewayofinspiration.SheerectedinhermindamightyStaircase,withadarkpitofshameandruinatthebottom;anddownthosestairs,fromdaytodayandhourtohour,shesawLouisacoming.

           ItbecamethebusinessofMrs.Sparsit’slife,tolookupatherstaircase,andtowatchLouisacomingdown.Sometimesslowly,sometimesquickly,sometimesseveralstepsatonebout,sometimesstopping,neverturningback.Ifshehadonceturnedback,itmighthavebeenthedeathofMrs.Sparsitinspleenandgrief.

           Shehadbeendescendingsteadily,totheday,andontheday,whenMr.Bounderbyissuedtheweeklyinvitationrecordedabove.Mrs.Sparsitwasingoodspirits,andinclinedtobeconversational.

           ‘Andpray,sir,’saidshe,‘ifImayventuretoaskaquestionappertainingtoanysubjectonwhichyoushowreservewhichisindeedhardyinme,forIwellknowyouhaveareasonforeverythingyoudohaveyoureceivedintelligencerespectingtherobbery?’

           ‘Why,ma’am,no;notyet.Underthecircumstances,Ididn’texpectityet.Romewasn’tbuiltinaday,ma’am.’

           ‘Verytrue,sir,’saidMrs.Sparsit,shakingherhead.

           ‘Noryetinaweek,ma’am.’

           ‘No,indeed,sir,’returnedMrs.Sparsit,withagentlemelancholyuponher.

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