按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
ashes out。
Rather conscious and confused； Arthur asked his pardon； if he had stared
at him unpolitely。 'But my mind runs so much upon this matter；' he said；
'that I lose myself。'
'Hah！ Yet I don't see；' returned Mr Flintwinch； quite at his leisure；
'why it should trouble YOU； Arthur。'
'No？'
'No；' said Mr Flintwinch； very shortly and decidedly： much as if he were
of the canine race； and snapped at Arthur's hand。
'Is it nothing to see those placards about？ Is it nothing to me to
see my mother's name and residence hawked up and down in such an
association？'
'I don't see；' returned Mr Flintwinch； scraping his horny cheek； 'that
it need signify much to you。 But I'll tell you what I do see； Arthur；'
glancing up at the windows； 'I see the light of fire and candle in your
mother's room！'
'And what has that to do with it？'
'Why； sir； I read by it；' said Mr Flintwinch； screwing himself at him；
'that if it's advisable （as the proverb says it is） to let sleeping dogs
lie； it's just as advisable； perhaps； to let missing dogs lie。 Let 'em
be。 They generally turn up soon enough。'
Mr Flintwinch turned short round when he had made this remark； and went
into the dark hall。 Clennam stood there； following him with his eyes；
as he dipped for a light in the phosphorus…box in the little room at the
side； got one after three or four dips； and lighted the dim lamp against
the wall。 All the while； Clennam was pursuing the probabilities……rather
as if they were being shown to him by an invisible hand than as if he
himself were conjuring them up……of Mr Flintwinch's ways and means of
doing that darker deed； and removing its traces by any of the black
avenues of shadow that lay around them。
'Now； sir；' said the testy Jeremiah； 'will it be agreeable to walk
up…stairs？'
'My mother is alone； I suppose？'
'Not alone；' said Mr Flintwinch。 'Mr Casby and his daughter are with
her。 They came in while I was smoking； and I stayed behind to have my
smoke out。'
This was the second disappointment。 Arthur made no remark upon it； and
repaired to his mother's room； where Mr Casby and Flora had been
taking tea； anchovy paste； and hot buttered toast。 The relics of those
delicacies were not yet removed； either from the table or from the
scorched countenance of Affery； who； with the kitchen toasting…fork
still in her hand； looked like a sort of allegorical personage； except
that she had a considerable advantage over the general run of such
personages in point of significant emblematical purpose。
Flora had spread her bon and shawl upon the bed； with a care
indicative of an intention to stay some time。 Mr Casby； too； was beaming
near the hob； with his benevolent knobs shining as if the warm butter of
the toast were exuding through the patriarchal skull； and with his face
as ruddy as if the colouring matter of the anchovy paste were mantling
in the patriarchal visage。 Seeing this； as he exchanged the
usual salutations； Clennam decided to speak to his mother without
postponement。
It had long been customary； as she never changed her room； for those who
had anything to say to her apart； to wheel her to her desk； where she
sat； usually with the back of her chair turned towards the rest of the
room； and the person who talked with her seated in a corner； on a stool
which was always set in that place for that purpose。 Except that it
was long since the mother and son had spoken together without the
intervention of a third person； it was an ordinary matter of course
within the experience of visitors for Mrs Clennam to be asked； with a
word of apology for the interruption； if she could be spoken with on
a matter of business； and； on her replying in the affirmative； to be
wheeled into the position described。
Therefore； when Arthur now made such an apology； and such a request；
and moved her to her desk and seated himself on the stool； Mrs Finching
merely began to talk louder and faster； as a delicate hint that she
could overhear nothing； and Mr Casby stroked his long white locks with
sleepy calmness。
'Mother； I have heard something to…day which I feel persuaded you don't
know； and which I think you should know； of the antecedents of that man
I saw here。'
'I know nothing of the antecedents of the man you saw here； Arthur。'
She spoke aloud。 He had lowered his own voice； but she rejected that
advance towards confidence as she rejected every other； and spoke in her
usual key and in her usual stern voice。
'I have received it on no circuitous information； it has e to me
direct。' She asked him； exactly as before； if he were there to tell her
what it was？
'I thought it right that you should know it。'
'And what is it？'
'He has been a prisoner in a French gaol。'
She answered with posure； 'I should think that very likely。'
'But in a gaol for criminals； mother。 On an accusation of murder。'
She started at the word； and her looks expressed her natural horror。 Yet
she still spoke aloud； when she demanded：……
'Who told you so？'
'A man who was his fellow…prisoner。'
'That man's antecedents； I suppose； were not known to you； before he
told you？'
'No。'
'Though the man himself was？'
'Yes。'
'My case and Flintwinch's； in respect of this other man！ I dare say the
resemblance is not so exact； though； as that your informant became known
to you through a letter from a correspondent with whom he had deposited
money？ How does that part of the parallel stand？'
Arthur had no choice but to say that his informant had not bee known
to him through the agency of any such credentials； or indeed of any
credentials at all。 Mrs Clennam's attentive frown expanded by degrees
into a severe look of triumph； and she retorted with emphasis； 'Take
care how you judge others； then。 I say to you； Arthur； for your good；
take care how you judge！' Her emphasis had been derived from her eyes
quite as much as from the stress she laid upon her words。 She continued
to look at him； and if； when he entered the house； he had had any latent
hope of prevailing in the least with her； she now looked it out of his
heart。
'Mother； shall I do nothing to assist you？'
'Nothing。'
'Will you entrust me with no confidence； no charge； no explanation？
Will you take no counsel with me？ Will you not let me e near you？'
'How can you ask me？ You separated yourself from my affairs。 It was not
my act； it was yours。 How can you consistently ask me such a question？
You know that you left me to Flintwinch； and that he occupies your
place。'
Glancing at Jeremiah； Clennam saw in his very gaiters that his attention
was closely directed to them； though he stood leaning against the wall
scraping his jaw； and pretended to listen to Flora as she held forth in
a most distracting manner on a chaos of subjects； in which mackerel； and
Mr F。's Aunt in a swing； had bee entangled with cockchafers and the
wine trade。
'A prisoner； in a French gaol； on an accusation of murder；' repeated
Mrs Clennam； steadily going over what her son had said。 'That is all you
know of him from the fellow…prisoner？'
'In substance； all。'
'And was the fellow…prisoner his acplice and a murderer； too？ But； of
course； he gives a better account of himself than of his friend； it is
needless to ask。 This will supply the rest of them here with something
new to talk about。 Casby； Arthur tells me……'
'Stay； mother！ Stay； stay！' He interrupted her hastily； for it had not
entered his imagination that she would openly proclaim what he had told
her。
'What now？' she said with displeasure。 'What more？'
'I beg you to excuse me； Mr Casby……and you； too； Mrs Finching……for one
other moment with my mother……'
He had laid his hand upon her chair； or she would otherwise have wheeled
it round with the touch of her foot upon the ground。 They were still
face to face。 She looked at him； as he ran over the possibilities of
some result he had not intended； and could not foresee； being influenced
by Cavalletto's disclosure being a matter of notoriety； and hurriedly
arrived at the conclusion that it had best not be talked about； though
perhaps he was guided by no more distinct reason than that he had taken
it for granted t