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he submitted to her entreaties； backed by those of his uncle and sister。
There was no want of precedent for his return； it was accounted for
to the father in the usual way； and the collegians； with a better
prehension of the pious fraud than Tip； supported it loyally。
This was the life； and this the history； of the child of the Marshalsea
at twenty…two。 With a still surviving attachment to the one miserable
yard and block of houses as her birthplace and home； she passed to and
fro in it shrinkingly now； with a womanly consciousness that she was
pointed out to every one。 Since she had begun to work beyond the walls；
she had found it necessary to conceal where she lived； and to e and
go as secretly as she could； between the free city and the iron gates；
outside of which she had never slept in her life。 Her original timidity
had grown with this concealment； and her light step and her little
figure shunned the thronged streets while they passed along them。
Worldly wise in hard and poor necessities； she was innocent in all
things else。 Innocent； in the mist through which she saw her father；
and the prison； and the turbid living river that flowed through it and
flowed on。
This was the life； and this the history； of Little Dorrit； now going
home upon a dull September evening； observed at a distance by Arthur
Clennam。 This was the life； and this the history； of Little Dorrit；
turning at the end of London Bridge； recrossing it； going back again；
passing on to Saint George's Church； turning back suddenly once more；
and flitting in at the open outer gate and little court…yard of the
Marshalsea。
CHAPTER 8。 The Lock
Arthur Clennam stood in the street； waiting to ask some passer…by what
place that was。 He suffered a few people to pass him in whose face there
was no encouragement to make the inquiry； and still stood pausing in the
street； when an old man came up and turned into the courtyard。
He stooped a good deal； and plodded along in a slow pre…occupied manner；
which made the bustling London thoroughfares no very safe resort for
him。 He was dirtily and meanly dressed； in a threadbare coat； once blue；
reaching to his ankles and buttoned to his chin； where it vanished in
the pale ghost of a velvet collar。 A piece of red cloth with which that
phantom had been stiffened in its lifetime was now laid bare； and poked
itself up； at the back of the old man's neck； into a confusion of grey
hair and rusty stock and buckle which altogether nearly poked his
hat off。 A greasy hat it was； and a napless； impending over his eyes；
cracked and crumpled at the brim； and with a wisp of pocket…handkerchief
dangling out below it。 His trousers were so long and loose； and his
shoes so clumsy and large； that he shuffled like an elephant； though how
much of this was gait； and how much trailing cloth and leather； no one
could have told。 Under one arm he carried a limp and worn…out case；
containing some wind instrument； in the same hand he had a pennyworth
of snuff in a little packet of whitey…brown paper； from which he slowly
forted his poor blue old nose with a lengthened…out pinch； as Arthur
Clennam looked at him。 To this old man crossing the court…yard； he
preferred his inquiry； touching him on the shoulder。 The old man stopped
and looked round； with the expression in his weak grey eyes of one whose
thoughts had been far off； and who was a little dull of hearing also。
'Pray； sir；' said Arthur； repeating his question； 'what is this place？'
'Ay！ This place？' returned the old man； staying his pinch of snuff on
its road； and pointing at the place without looking at it。 'This is the
Marshalsea； sir。'
'The debtors' prison？'
'Sir；' said the old man； with the air of deeming it not quite necessary
to insist upon that designation； 'the debtors' prison。'
He turned himself about； and went on。
'I beg your pardon；' said Arthur； stopping him once more； 'but will you
allow me to ask you another question？ Can any one go in here？'
'Any one can go IN；' replied the old man； plainly adding by the
significance of his emphasis； 'but it is not every one who can go out。'
'Pardon me once more。 Are you familiar with the place？'
'Sir；' returned the old man； squeezing his little packet of snuff in his
hand； and turning upon his interrogator as if such questions hurt him。
'I am。'
'I beg you to excuse me。 I am not impertinently curious； but have a good
object。 Do you know the name of Dorrit here？'
'My name； sir；' replied the old man most unexpectedly； 'is Dorrit。'
Arthur pulled off his hat to him。 'Grant me the favour of half…a…dozen
words。 I was wholly unprepared for your announcement； and hope that
assurance is my sufficient apology for having taken the liberty of
addressing you。 I have recently e home to England after a long
absence。 I have seen at my mother's……Mrs Clennam in the city……a young
woman working at her needle； whom I have only heard addressed or spoken
of as Little Dorrit。 I have felt sincerely interested in her； and have
had a great desire to know something more about her。 I saw her； not a
minute before you came up； pass in at that door。'
The old man looked at him attentively。 'Are you a sailor； sir？' he
asked。 He seemed a little disappointed by the shake of the head that
replied to him。 'Not a sailor？ I judged from your sunburnt face that you
might be。 Are you in earnest； sir？'
'I do assure you that I am； and do entreat you to believe that I am； in
plain earnest。'
'I know very little of the world； sir；' returned the other； who had a
merely passing on； like the shadow over
the sun…dial。 It would be worth no man's while to mislead me； it would
really be too easy……too poor a success； to yield any satisfaction。 The
young woman whom you saw go in here is my brother's child。 My brother
is William Dorrit； I am Frederick。 You say you have seen her at your
mother's （I know your mother befriends her）； you have felt an interest
in her； and you wish to know what she does here。 e and see。'
He went on again； and Arthur acpanied him。
'My brother；' said the old man； pausing on the step and slowly facing
round again； 'has been here many years； and much that happens even among
ourselves； out of doors； is kept from him for reasons that I needn't
enter upon now。 Be so good as to say nothing of my niece's working at
her needle。 Be so good as to say nothing that goes beyond what is said
among us。 If you keep within our bounds； you cannot well be wrong。 Now！
e and see。'
Arthur followed him down a narrow entry； at the end of which a key was
turned； and a strong door was opened from within。 It admitted them into
a lodge or lobby； across which they passed； and so through another door
and a grating into the prison。 The old man always plodding on before；
turned round； in his slow； stiff； stooping manner； when they came to the
turnkey on duty； as if to present his panion。 The turnkey nodded； and
the panion passed in without being asked whom he wanted。
The night was dark； and the prison lamps in the yard； and the candles in
the prison windows faintly shining behind many sorts of wry old curtain
and blind； had not the air of making it lighter。 A few people loitered
about； but the greater part of the population was within doors。 The old
man； taking the right…hand side of the yard； turned in at the third or
fourth doorway； and began to ascend the stairs。 'They are rather dark；
sir； but you will not find anything in the way。'
He paused for a moment before opening a door on the second story。 He had
no sooner turned the handle than the visitor saw Little Dorrit； and saw
the reason of her setting so much store by dining alone。
She had brought the meat home that she should have eaten herself； and
was already warming it on a gridiron over the fire for her father； clad
in an old grey gown and a black cap； awaiting his supper at the table。
A clean cloth was spread before him； with knife； fork； and spoon；
salt…cellar； pepper…box； glass； and pewter ale…pot。 Such zests as his
particular little phial of cayenne pepper and his pennyworth of pickles
in a saucer； were not wanting。
She started； coloured deeply； and turned white。 The visitor； mo