Крихітка Дорріт

Chapter 13. Patriarchal

           Hewasasingularmaninallrespects;hemightnothavebeenquiteinearnest,butthattheshort,hard,rapidmannerinwhichheshotoutthesecindersofprinciples,asifitweredonebymechanicalrevolvency,seemedirreconcilablewithbanter.

           ‘Youarenogreatreader,Isuppose?’saidClennam.

           ‘Neverreadanythingbutlettersandaccounts.Nevercollectanythingbutadvertisementsrelativetonextofkin.Ifthat’sataste,Ihavegotthat.You’renotoftheClennamsofCornwall,MrClennam?’

           ‘NotthatIeverheardof.’

           ‘Iknowyou’renot.Iaskedyourmother,sir.Shehastoomuchcharactertoletachanceescapeher.’

           ‘SupposingIhadbeenoftheClennamsofCornwall?’

           ‘You’dhaveheardofsomethingtoyouradvantage.’

           ‘Indeed!Ihaveheardoflittleenoughtomyadvantageforsometime.’

           ‘There’saCornishpropertygoingabegging,sir,andnotaCornishClennamtohaveitfortheasking,’saidPancks,takinghisnote-bookfromhisbreastpocketandputtingitinagain.‘Iturnoffhere.Iwishyougoodnight.’

           ‘Goodnight!’saidClennam.ButtheTug,suddenlylightened,anduntrammelledbyhavinganyweightintow,wasalreadypuffingawayintothedistance.

           TheyhadcrossedSmithfieldtogether,andClennamwasleftaloneatthecornerofBarbican.Hehadnointentionofpresentinghimselfinhismother’sdismalroomthatnight,andcouldnothavefeltmoredepressedandcastawayifhehadbeeninawilderness.

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