Крихітка Дорріт

Chapter 32. More Fortune-Telling

           

           ‘WhenIliedownto-night,andmythoughtscomeback—astheywill,fortheydoeverynight,evenwhenIhavenotseenyou—tothissadplace,Imaybelievethatthereisnogriefbeyondthisroom,now,anditsusualoccupants,whichpreysonLittleDorrit’smind?’

           Sheseemedtocatchatthesewords—thatheremembered,too,longafterwards—andsaid,morebrightly,‘Yes,MrClennam;yes,youmay!’

           Thecrazystaircase,usuallynotslowtogivenoticewhenanyonewascomingupordown,herecreakedunderaquicktread,andafurthersoundwashearduponit,asifalittlesteam-enginewithmoresteamthanitknewwhattodowith,wereworkingtowardstheroom.Asitapproached,whichitdidveryrapidly,itlabouredwithincreasedenergy;and,afterknockingatthedoor,itsoundedasifitwerestoopingdownandsnortinginatthekeyhole.

           BeforeMaggycouldopenthedoor,MrPancks,openingitfromwithout,stoodwithoutahatandwithhisbareheadinthewildestcondition,lookingatClennamandLittleDorrit,overhershoulder.Hehadalightedcigarinhishand,andbroughtwithhimairsofaleandtobaccosmoke.

           ‘Pancksthegipsy,’heobservedoutofbreath,‘fortune-telling.’

           Hestooddingilysmiling,andbreathinghardatthem,withamostcuriousair;asif,insteadofbeinghisproprietor’sgrubber,hewerethetriumphantproprietoroftheMarshalsea,theMarshal,alltheturnkeys,andalltheCollegians.

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