Крихітка Дорріт

Chapter 5. Something Wrong Somewhere

           Shemightfeelalittlewounded,buthercarewasnotforherself.Herthoughtsstillturned,astheyalwayshadturned,tohim.Afaintmisgiving,whichhadhungabouthersincetheiraccessiontofortune,thatevennowshecouldneverseehimasheusedtobebeforetheprisondays,hadgraduallybeguntoassumeforminhermind.Shefeltthat,inwhathehadjustnowsaidtoherandinhiswholebearingtowardsher,therewasthewell-knownshadowoftheMarshalseawall.Ittookanewshape,butitwastheoldsadshadow.Shebeganwithsorrowfulunwillingnesstoacknowledgetoherselfthatshewasnotstrongenoughtokeepoffthefearthatnospaceinthelifeofmancouldovercomethatquarterofacenturybehindtheprisonbars.Shehadnoblametobestowuponhim,therefore:nothingtoreproachhimwith,noemotionsinherfaithfulheartbutgreatcompassionandunboundedtenderness.

           Thisiswhyitwas,that,evenashesatbeforeheronhissofa,inthebrilliantlightofabrightItalianday,thewonderfulcitywithoutandthesplendoursofanoldpalacewithin,shesawhimatthemomentinthelong-familiargloomofhisMarshalsealodging,andwishedtotakeherseatbesidehim,andcomforthim,andbeagainfullofconfidencewithhim,andofusefulnesstohim.Ifhedivinedwhatwasinherthoughts,hisownwerenotintunewithit.Aftersomeuneasymovinginhisseat,hegotupandwalkedabout,lookingverymuchdissatisfied.

           ‘Isthereanythingelseyouwishtosaytome,dearfather?’

           ‘No,no.Nothingelse.’

           ‘Iamsorryyouhavenotbeenpleasedwithme,dear.

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