Крихітка Дорріт

Chapter 3. Home

           Affery,woman,haveyoufoundwhatyouwantyet?’

           Shehadbeencollectingsheetsandblanketsfromapress,andhastenedtogatherthemup,andtoreply,‘Yes,Jeremiah.’ArthurClennamhelpedherbycarryingtheloadhimself,wishedtheoldmangoodnight,andwentup-stairswithhertothetopofthehouse.

           Theymountedupandup,throughthemustysmellofanoldclosehouse,littleused,toalargegarretbed-room.Meagreandspare,likealltheotherrooms,itwasevenuglierandgrimmerthantherest,bybeingtheplaceofbanishmentfortheworn-outfurniture.Itsmovableswereuglyoldchairswithworn-outseats,anduglyoldchairswithoutanyseats;athreadbarepatternlesscarpet,amaimedtable,acrippledwardrobe,aleansetoffire-ironsliketheskeletonofasetdeceased,awashing-standthatlookedasifithadstoodforagesinahailofdirtysoapsuds,andabedsteadwithfourbareatomiesofposts,eachterminatinginaspike,asifforthedismalaccommodationoflodgerswhomightprefertoimpalethemselves.Arthuropenedthelonglowwindow,andlookedoutupontheoldblastedandblackenedforestofchimneys,andtheoldredglareinthesky,whichhadseemedtohimonceuponatimebutanightlyreflectionofthefieryenvironmentthatwaspresentedtohischildishfancyinalldirections,letitlookwhereitwould.

           Hedrewinhisheadagain,satdownatthebedside,andlookedonatAfferyFlintwinchmakingthebed.

           ‘Affery,youwerenotmarriedwhenIwentaway.’

           Shescrewedhermouthintotheformofsaying‘No,’shookherhead,andproceededtogetapillowintoitscase.

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