Крихітка Дорріт

Chapter 8. The Lock

           ‘WhathadIbetterdo?’

           ‘WehadbettergetholdofAmyfirstofall,’saidTip,referringanydifficultytoherasamatterofcourse.

           ‘Iwouldratherwalkaboutallnight—it’snotmuchtodo—thangivethattrouble.’

           ‘Youneedn’tdothat,ifyoudon’tmindpayingforabed.Ifyoudon’tmindpaying,they’llmakeyouuponeontheSnuggerytable,underthecircumstances.Ifyou’llcomealong,I’llintroduceyouthere.’

           Astheypasseddowntheyard,Arthurlookedupatthewindowoftheroomhehadlatelyleft,wherethelightwasstillburning.‘Yes,sir,’saidTip,followinghisglance.‘That’sthegovernor’s.She’llsitwithhimforanotherhourreadingyesterday’spapertohim,orsomethingofthatsort;andthenshe’llcomeoutlikealittleghost,andvanishawaywithoutasound.’

           ‘Idon’tunderstandyou.’

           ‘Thegovernorsleepsupintheroom,andshehasalodgingattheturnkey’s.Firsthousethere,’saidTip,pointingoutthedoorwayintowhichshehadretired.‘Firsthouse,skyparlour.Shepaystwiceasmuchforitasshewouldforonetwiceasgoodoutside.Butshestandsbythegovernor,poordeargirl,dayandnight.’

           Thisbroughtthemtothetavern-establishmentattheupperendoftheprison,wherethecollegianshadjustvacatedtheirsocialeveningclub.Theapartmentontheground-floorinwhichitwasheld,wastheSnuggeryinquestion;thepresidentialtribuneofthechairman,thepewter-pots,glasses,pipes,tobacco-ashes,andgeneralflavourofmembers,werestillasthatconvivialinstitutionhadleftthemonitsadjournment.

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