little dorrit-信丽(英文版)-第111部分

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friend's　dead　daughter　had　passed　away；　that　he　must　be　steady　in　saying
to　himself　that　the　time　had　gone　by　him；　and　he　was　too　saddened　and
old？

He　had　kissed　her　when　he　raised　her　from　the　ground　on　the　day　when　she
had　been　so　consistently　and　expressively　forgotten。　Quite　as　he　might
have　kissed　her；　if　she　had　been　conscious？　No　difference？

The　darkness　found　him　occupied　with　these　thoughts。　The　darkness　also
found　Mr　and　Mrs　Plornish　knocking　at　his　door。　They　brought　with　them　a
basket；　filled　with　choice　selections　from　that　stock　in　trade　which　met
with　such　a　quick　sale　and　produced　such　a　slow　return。　Mrs　Plornish　was
affected　to　tears。　Mr　Plornish　amiably　growled；　in　his　philosophical　but
not　lucid　manner；　that　there　was　ups　you　see；　and　there　was　downs。　It
was　in　vain　to　ask　why　ups；　why　downs；　there　they　was；　you　know。　He　had
heerd　it　given　for　a　truth　that　accordin'　as　the　world　went　round；　which
round　it　did　rewolve　undoubted；　even　the　best　of　gentlemen　must　take　his
turn　of　standing　with　his　ed　upside　down　and　all　his　air　a　flying
the　wrong　way　into　what　you　might　call　Space。　Wery　well　then。　What
Mr　Plornish　said　was；　wery　well　then。　That　gentleman's　ed　would　e
up…ards　when　his　turn　e；　that　gentleman's　air　would　be　a　pleasure　to
look　upon　being　all　smooth　again；　and　wery　well　then！

It　has　been　already　stated　that　Mrs　Plornish；　not　being　philosophical；
wept。　It　further　happened　that　Mrs　Plornish；　not　being　philosophical；
was　intelligible。　It　may　have　arisen　out　of　her　softened　state　of　mind；
out　of　her　sex's　wit；　out　of　a　woman's　quick　association　of　ideas；
or　out　of　a　woman's　no　association　of　ideas；　but　it　further　happened
somehow　that　Mrs　Plornish's　intelligibility　displayed　itself　upon　the
very　subject　of　Arthur's　meditations。

'The　way　father　has　been　talking　about　you；　Mr　Clennam；'　said　Mrs
Plornish；　'you　hardly　would　believe。　It's　made　him　quite　poorly。　As
to　his　voice；　this　misfortune　has　took　it　away。　You　know　what　a　sweet
singer　father　is；　but　he　couldn't　get　a　note　out　for　the　children　at
tea；　if　you'll　credit　what　I　tell　you。'

While　speaking；　Mrs　Plornish　shook　her　head；　and　wiped　her　eyes；　and
looked　retrospectively　about　the　room。

'As　to　Mr　Baptist；'　pursued　Mrs　Plornish；　'whatever　he'll　do　when　he
es　to　know　of　it；　I　can't　conceive　nor　yet　imagine。　He'd　have　been
here　before　now；　you　may　be　sure；　but　that　he's　away　on　confidential
business　of　your　own。　The　persevering　manner　in　which　he　follows　up　that
business；　and　gives　himself　no　rest　from　it……it　really　do；'　said
Mrs　Plornish；　winding　up　in　the　Italian　manner；　'as　I　say　to　him；
Mooshattonisha　padrona。'

Though　not　conceited；　Mrs　Plornish　felt　that　she　had　turned　this　Tuscan
sentence　with　peculiar　elegance。　Mr　Plornish　could　not　conceal　his
exultation　in　her　acplishments　as　a　linguist。

'But　what　I　say　is；　Mr　Clennam；'　the　good　woman　went　on；　'there's　always
something　to　be　thankful　for；　as　I　am　sure　you　will　yourself　admit。
Speaking　in　this　room；　it's　not　hard　to　think　what　the　present　something
is。　It's　a　thing　to　be　thankful　for；　indeed；　that　Miss　Dorrit　is　not
here　to　know　it。'

Arthur　thought　she　looked　at　him　with　particular　expression。

'It's　a　thing；'　reiterated　Mrs　Plornish；　'to　be　thankful　for；　indeed；
that　Miss　Dorrit　is　far　away。　It's　to　be　hoped　she　is　not　likely　to　hear
of　it。　If　she　had　been　here　to　see　it；　sir；　it's　not　to　be　doubted
that　the　sight　of　you；'　Mrs　Plornish　repeated　those　words……'not　to　be
doubted；　that　the　sight　of　you……in　misfortune　and　trouble；　would　have
been　almost　too　much　for　her　affectionate　heart。　There's　nothing　I　can
think　of；　that　would　have　touched　Miss　Dorrit　so　bad　as　that。'

Of　a　certainty　Mrs　Plornish　did　look　at　him　now；　with　a　sort　of
quivering　defiance　in　her　friendly　emotion。

'Yes！'　said　she。　'And　it　shows　what　notice　father　takes；　though　at　his
time　of　life；　that　he　says　to　me　this　afternoon；　which　Happy　Cottage
knows　I　neither　make　it　up　nor　any　ways　enlarge；　〃Mary；　it's　much　to
be　rejoiced　in　that　Miss　Dorrit　is　not　on　the　spot　to　behold　it。〃　Those
were　father's　words。　Father's　own　words　was；　〃Much　to　be　rejoiced　in；
Mary；　that　Miss　Dorrit　is　not　on　the　spot　to　behold　it。〃　I　says　to
father　then；　I　says　to　him；　〃Father；　you　are　right！〃　That；'　Mrs　Plornish
concluded；　with　the　air　of　a　very　precise　legal　witness；　'is　what　passed
betwixt　father　and　me。　And　I　tell　you　nothing　but　what　did　pass　betwixt
me　and　father。'

Mr　Plornish；　as　being　of　a　more　laconic　temperament；　embraced　this
opportunity　of　interposing　with　the　suggestion　that　she　should　now　leave
Mr　Clennam　to　himself。　'For；　you　see；'　said　Mr　Plornish；　gravely；　'I
know　what　it　is；　old　gal；'　repeating　that　valuable　remark　several　times；
as　if　it　appeared　to　him　to　include　some　great　moral　secret。　Finally；
the　worthy　couple　went　away　arm　in　arm。

Little　Dorrit；　Little　Dorrit。　Again；　for　hours。　Always　Little　Dorrit！

Happily；　if　it　ever　had　been　so；　it　was　over；　and　better　over。　Granted
that　she　had　loved　him；　and　he　had　known　it　and　had　suffered　himself
to　love　her；　what　a　road　to　have　led　her　away　upon……the　road　that　would
have　brought　her　back　to　this　miserable　place！　He　ought　to　be　much
forted　by　the　reflection　that　she　was　quit　of　it　forever；　that　she
was；　or　would　soon　be；　married　（vague　rumours　of　her　father's　projects
in　that　direction　had　reached　Bleeding　Heart　Yard；　with　the　news　of　her
sister's　marriage）；　and　that　the　Marshalsea　gate　had　shut　for　ever　on
all　those　perplexed　possibilities　of　a　time　that　was　gone。

Dear　Little　Dorrit。

Looking　back　upon　his　own　poor　story；　she　was　its　vanishing…point。　Every
thing　in　its　perspective　led　to　her　innocent　figure。　He　had　travelled
thousands　of　miles　towards　it；　previous　unquiet　hopes　and　doubts　had
worked　themselves　out　before　it；　it　was　the　centre　of　the　interest
of　his　life；　it　was　the　termination　of　everything　that　was　good　and
pleasant　in　it；　beyond；　there　was　nothing　but　mere　waste　and　darkened
sky。

As　ill　at　ease　as　on　the　first　night　of　his　lying　down　to　sleep　within
those　dreary　walls；　he　wore　the　night　out　with　such　thoughts。　What　time
Young　John　lay　wrapt　in　peaceful　slumber；　after　posing　and　arranging
the　following　monumental　inscription　on　his　pillow……


　　　　　　　　　　STRANGER！
　　　　　RESPECT　THE　TOMB　OF
　　　　　JOHN　CHIVERY；　JUNIOR；
　　　　　WHO　DIED　AT　AN　ADVANCED　AGE
　　　　　NOT　NECESSARY　TO　MENTION。
　　　　　HE　ENCOUNTERED　HIS　RIVAL　IN　A　DISTRESSED　STATE；
　　　　　AND　FELT　INCLINED
　　　　　TO　HAVE　A　ROUND　WITH　HIM；
　　　　　BUT；　FOR　THE　SAKE　OF　THE　LOVED　ONE；　CONQUERED　THOSE　FEELINGS
　　　　　OF　BITTERNESS；　AND　BECAME
　　　　　MAGNANIMOUS。




CHAPTER　28。　An　Appearance　in　the　Marshalsea


The　opinion　of　the　munity　outside　the　prison　gates　bore　hard　on
Clennam　as　time　went　on；　and　he　made　no　friends　among　the　munity
within。　Too　depressed　to　associate　with　the　herd　in　the　yard；　who　got
together　to　forget　their　cares；　too　retiring　and　too　unhappy　to　join　in
the　poor　socialities　of　the　tavern；　he　kept　his　own　room；　and　was　held
in　distrust。　Some　said　he　was　proud；　some　objected　that　he　was
sullen　and　reserved；　some　were　contemptuous　of　him；　for　that　he　was　a
poor…spirited　dog　who　pined　under　his　debts。　The　whole　population　were
shy　of　him　on　these　various　counts　of　indictment；　but　especially　the
last；　which　involved　a　species　of　domestic　treason；　and　he　soon　became
so　confirmed　in　his　seclusion；　that　his　only　time　for　walking　up　and
down　was　when　the　evening　Club　were　assembled　at　their　songs　and　toasts
and　sentiments；　and　when　the　yard　was　nearly　left　to　the　women　and
children。

Imprisonment　began　to　tell　upon　him。　He　knew　that　he　idled　and　moped。
After　what　he　had　known　of　the　influences　of　imprisonment　within　the
four　small　walls　of　the　very　room　he　occupied；　this　consciousness　made
him　afraid　of　himself。　Shrinking　from　the　observation　of　other　men；　and
shrinking　from　his　own；　he　began　to　change　very　sensibly。　Anybody　might
see　that　the　shadow　of　the　wall　was　dark　upon　him。

One　day　when　he　might　have　been　some　ten　or　twelve　weeks　in　jail；　and
when　he　had　been　trying　to　read　and　had　not　been　able　to　release　even
the　imaginary　people　of　the　book　from　the　Marshalsea；　a　footstep　stopped
at　his　door；　and　a　hand　tapped　at　it。　He　arose　and　opened　it；　and　an
agreeable　voice　accosted　him　with　'How　do　you　do；　Mr　Clennam？　I　hope　I
am　not　unwele　in　calling　to　see　you。'

It　was　the　sprightly　young　Barnacle；　Ferdinand。　He　looked　very
good…natured　and　prepossessing；　though　overpoweringly　gay　and　free；　in
contrast　with　the　squalid　prison。

'You　are　surprised　to　see　me；　Mr　Clennam；'　he　said；　taking　the　seat
which　Clennam　offered　him。

'I　must　confess　to　being　much　surprised。'

'Not　disagreeably；　I　hope？'

'By　no　means。'

'Thank　you。　Frankly；'　said　the　engaging　young　Barnacle；　'I　have　been
excessively　sorry　to　hear　that　you　were　under　the　necessity　of　a
temporary　retirement　here；　and　I　hope　（of　course　as　between　two　private
gentlemen）　that　our　place　has　had　nothing　to　do　with　it？'

'Your　office？'

'Our　Circumlocution　place。'

'I　cannot　charge　any　part　of　my　reverses　upon　that　remarkable
establishment。'

Upon　my　life；'　said　the　vivacious　young　Barnacle；　'I　am　heartily　glad　to
knoe　to　hear　you　say　it。　I　should　have
so　exceedingly　regretted　our　place　having　had　anything　to　do　with　your
difficulties。'

Clennam　again　assured　him　that　he　absolved　it　of　the　responsibility。

'That's　right；'　said　Ferdinand。　'I　am　very　happy　to　hear　it。　I　was
rather　afraid　in　my　own　mind　that　we　might　have　helped　to　floor　you；
because　there　is　no　doubt　that　it　is　our　misfortune　to　do　that　kind
of　thing　now　and　then。　We　don't　want　to　do　it；　but　if　men　will　be
gravelled；　why……we　can't　help　it。'

'Without　giving　an　unqualified　assent　to　what　you　say；'　returned　Arthur；
gloomily；　'I　am　much　obliged　to　you　for　your　interest　in　me。'

'No；　but　really！　Our　place　is；'　said　the　easy　young　Barnacle；　'the　most
inoffensive　place　possible。　You'll　say　we　are　a　humbug。　I　won't　say
we　are　not；　but　all　that　sort　of　thing　is　intended　to　be；　and　must　be。
Don't　you　see？'

'I　do　not；'　said　Clennam。

'You　don't　regard　it　from　the　right　point　of　view。　It　is　the　point　of
view　that　is　the　essential　thing。　Regard　our　place　from　the　point　of
view　that　we　only　ask　you　to　leave　us　alone；　and　we　are　as　capital　a
Department　as　you'll　find　anywhere。'

'Is　your　place　there　to　be　left　alone？'　asked　Clennam。

'You　exactly　hit　it；'　returned　Ferdinand。　'It　is　there　with　the　express
intention　that　everything　shall　be　left　alone。　That　is　what　it　means。
That　is　what　it's　for。　No　doubt　there's　a　certain　form　to　be　kept　up
that　it's　for　something　else；　but　it's　only　a　form。　Why；　good　Heaven；
we　are　nothing　but　forms！　Think　what　a　lot　of　our　forms　you　have　gone
through。　And　you　have　never　got　any　nearer　to　an　end？'

'Never；'　said　Clennam。

'Look　at　it　from　the　right　point　of　view；　and　there　you　have
us……official　and　effectual。　It's　like　a　limited　game　of　cricket。　A　field
of　outsiders　are　always　going　in　to　bowl　at　the　Public　Service；　and　we
block　the　balls。'

Clennam　asked　what　became　of　the　bowlers？　The　airy　young　Barnacle
replied　that　they　grew　tired；　got　dead　beat；　got　lamed；　got　their　backs
broken；　died　off；　gave　it　up；　went　in　for　other　games。

'And　this　occasions　me　to　congratulate　myself　again；'　he　pursued；
'on　the　circumstance　that　our　place　has　had　nothing　to　do　with　your
temporary　retirement。　It　very　easily　might　have　had　a　hand　in　it；
because　it　is　undeniable　that　we　are　sometimes　a　most　unlucky　place；　in
our　effects　upon　people　who　will　not　leave　us　alone。　Mr　Clennam；　I　am
quite　unreserved　with　you。　As　between　yourself　and　myself；　I　know　I　may
be。　I　was　so；　when　I　first　saw　you　making　the　mistake　of　not　leaving　us
alone；　because　I　perceived　that　you　were　inexperienced　and　sanguine；　and
had……I　hope　you'll　not　object　to　my　saying……some　simplicity。'

'Not　at　all。'

'Some　simplicity。　Therefore　I　felt　what　a　pity　it　was；　and　I　went　out
of　my　way　to　hint　to　you　（which　really　was　not　official；　but　I　never　am
official　when　I　can　help　it）　something　to　the　effect　that　if　I　were　you；
I　wouldn't　bother　myself。　However；　you　did　bother　yourself；　and　you　have
since　bothered　yourself。　Now；　don't　do　it　any　more。'

'I　am　not　likely　to　have　the　opportunity；'　said　Clennam。

'Oh　yes；　you　are！　You'll　leave　here。　Everybody　leaves　here。　There　are　no
ends　of　ways　of　leaving　here。　Now；　don't　e　back　to　us。　That　entreaty
is　the　second　object　of　my　call。　Pray；　don't　e　back　to　us。　Upon　my
honour；'　said　Ferdinand　in　a　very　friendly　and　confiding　way；　'I　shall
be　greatly　vexed　if　you　don't　take　warning　by　the　past　and　keep　away
from　us。'

'And　the　invention？'　said　Clennam。

'My　good　fellow；'　returned　Ferdinand；　'if　you'll　excuse　the　freedom　of
that　form　of　address；　nobody　wants　to　know　of　the　invention；　and　nobody
cares　twopence…halfpenny　about　it。'

'Nobody　in　the　Office；　that　is　to　say？'

'Nor　out　of　it。　Everybody　is　ready　to　dislike　and　ridicule　any
invention。　You　have　no　idea　how　many　people　want　to　be　left　alone。

You　have　no　idea　how　the　Genius　of　the　country　（overlook　the
Parliamentary　nature　of　the　phrase；　and　don't　be　bored　by　it）　tends
to　being　left　alone。　Believe　me；　Mr　Clennam；'　said　the　sprightly　young
Barnacle　in　his　pleasantest　manner；　'our　place　is　not　a　wicked　Giant　to
be　charged　at　full　tilt；　but　only　a　windmill　showing　you；　as　it　grinds
immense　quantities　of　chaff；　which　way　the　country　wind　blows。'

'If　I　could　believe　that；'　said　Clennam；　'it　would　be　a　dismal　prospect
for　all　of　us。'

'Oh！　Don't　say　so！'　returned　Ferdinand。　'It's　all　right。　We　must　have
humbug；　we　all　like　humbug；　we　couldn't　get　on　without　humbug。

A　little　humbug；　and　a　groove；　and　everything　goes　on　admirably；　if　you
leave　it　alone。'

With　this　hopeful　confession　of　his　faith　as　the　head　of　the　rising
Barnacles　who　were　born　of　woman；　to　be　followed　under　a　variety　of
watchwords　which　they　utterly　repudiated　and　disbelieved；　Ferdinand
rose。　Nothing　could　be　more　agreeable　than　his　frank　and　courteous
bearing；　or　adapted　with　a　more　gentlemanly　instinct　to　the
circumstances　of　his　visit。

'Is　it　fair　to　ask；'　he　said；　as　Clennam　gave　him　his　hand　with　a　real
feeling　of　thankfulness　for　his　candour　and　good…humour；　'whether　it
is　true　that　our　late　lamented　Merdle　is　the　cause　of　this　passing
inconvenience？'

'I　am　one　of　the　many　he　has　ruined。　Yes。'

'He　must　have　been　an　exceedingly　clever　fellow；'　said　Ferdinand
Barnacle。

Arthur；　not　being　in　the　mood　to　extol　the　memory　of　the　deceased；　was
silent。

'A　consummate　rascal；　of　course；'　said　Ferdinand；　'but　remarkably
clever！　One　cannot　help　admiring　the　fellow。　Must　have　been　such　a
master　of　humbug。　Knew　people　so　well……got　over　them　so　pletely……did
so　much　with　them！'　In　his　easy　way；　he　was　really　moved　to　genuine
admiration。

'I　hope；'　said　Arthur；　'that　he　and　his　dupes　may　be　a　warning　to　people
not　to　have　so　much　done　with　them　again。'

'My　dear　Mr　Clennam；'　returned　Ferdinand；　laughing；　'have　you　really
such　a　verdant　hope？　The　next　man　who　has　as　large　a　capacity　and　as
genuine　a　taste　for　swindling；　will　succeed　as　well。　Pardon　me；　but
I　think　you　really　have　no　idea　how　t