little dorrit-信丽(英文版)-第44部分

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tour　to　Calais　where　the　people　fought　for　us　on　the　pier　until　they
separated　us　though　not　for　ever　that　was　not　yet　to　be。'

The　statue　bride；　hardly　pausing　for　breath；　went　on；　with　the　greatest
placency；　in　a　rambling　manner　sometimes　incidental　to　flesh　and
blood。

'I　will　draw　a　veil　over　that　dreamy　life；　Mr　F。　was　in　good　spirits　his
appetite　was　good　he　liked　the　cookery　he　considered　the　wine　weak　but
palatable　and　all　was　well；　we　returned　to　the　immediate　neighbourhood
of　Number　Thirty　Little　Gosling　Street　London　Docks　and　settled　down；
ere　we　had　yet　fully　detected　the　housemaid　in　selling　the　feathers
out　of　the　spare　bed　Gout　flying　upwards　soared　with　Mr　F。　to　another
sphere。'

His　relict；　with　a　glance　at　his　portrait；　shook　her　head　and　wiped　her
eyes。

'I　revere　the　memory　of　Mr　F。　as　an　estimable　man　and　most　indulgent
husband；　only　necessary　to　mention　Asparagus　and　it　appeared　or　to　hint
at　any　little　delicate　thing　to　drink　and　it　came　like　magic　in　a　pint
bottle　it　was　not　ecstasy　but　it　was　fort；　I　returned　to　papa's　roof
and　lived　secluded　if　not　happy　during　some　years　until　one　day　papa
came　smoothly　blundering　in　and　said　that　Arthur　Clennam　awaited　me
below；　I　went　below　and　found　him　ask　me　not　what　I　found　him　except
that　he　was　still　unmarried　still　unchanged！'

The　dark　mystery　with　which　Flora　now　enshrouded　herself　might　have
stopped　other　fingers　than　the　nimble　fingers　that　worked　near　her。

They　worked　on　without　pause；　and　the　busy　head　bent　over　them　watching
the　stitches。

'Ask　me　not；'　said　Flora；　'if　I　love　him　still　or　if　he　still　loves　me
or　what　the　end　is　to　be　or　when；　we　are　surrounded　by　watchful　eyes　and
it　may　be　that　we　are　destined　to　pine　asunder　it　may　be　never　more　to
be　reunited　not　a　word　not　a　breath　not　a　look　to　betray　us　all　must
be　secret　as　the　tomb　wonder　not　therefore　that　even　if　I　should　seem
paratively　cold　to　Arthur　or　Arthur　should　seem　paratively　cold　to
me　we　have　fatal　reasons　it　is　enough　if　we　understand　them　hush！'

All　of　which　Flora　said　with　so　much　headlong　vehemence　as　if　she　really
believed　it。　There　is　not　much　doubt　that　when　she　worked　herself　into
full　mermaid　condition；　she　did　actually　believe　whatever　she　said　in
it。

'Hush！'　repeated　Flora；　'I　have　now　told　you　all；　confidence　is
established　between　us　hush；　for　Arthur's　sake　I　will　always　be　a　friend
to　you　my　dear　girl　and　in　Arthur's　name　you　may　always　rely　upon　me。'

The　nimble　fingers　laid　aside　the　work；　and　the　little　figure　rose　and
kissed　her　hand。　'You　are　very　cold；'　said　Flora；　changing　to　her　own
natural　kind…hearted　manner；　and　gaining　greatly　by　the　change。　'Don't
work　to…day。　I　am　sure　you　are　not　well　I　am　sure　you　are　not　strong。'

'It　is　only　that　I　feel　a　little　overe　by　your　kindness；　and　by　Mr
Clennam's　kindness　in　confiding　me　to　one　he　has　known　and　loved　so
long。'

'Well　really　my　dear；'　said　Flora；　who　had　a　decided　tendency　to　be
always　honest　when　she　gave　herself　time　to　think　about　it；　'it's　as
well　to　leave　that　alone　now；　for　I　couldn't　undertake　to　say　after　all；
but　it　doesn't　signify　lie　down　a　little！'

'I　have　always　been　strong　enough　to　do　what　I　want　to　do；　and　I　shall
be　quite　well　directly；'　returned　Little　Dorrit；　with　a　faint　smile。
'You　have　overpowered　me　with　gratitude；　that's　all。　If　I　keep　near　the
window　for　a　moment　I　shall　be　quite　myself。'

Flora　opened　a　window；　sat　her　in　a　chair　by　it；　and　considerately
retired　to　her　former　place。　It　was　a　windy　day；　and　the　air　stirring
on　Little　Dorrit's　face　soon　brightened　it。　In　a　very　few　minutes　she
returned　to　her　basket　of　work；　and　her　nimble　fingers　were　as　nimble　as
ever。

Quietly　pursuing　her　task；　she　asked　Flora　if　Mr　Clennam　had　told　her
where　she　lived？　When　Flora　replied　in　the　negative；　Little　Dorrit　said
that　she　understood　why　he　had　been　so　delicate；　but　that　she　felt　sure
he　would　approve　of　her　confiding　her　secret　to　Flora；　and　that
she　would　therefore　do　so　now　with　Flora's　permission。　Receiving　an
encouraging　answer；　she　condensed　the　narrative　of　her　life　into　a　few
scanty　words　about　herself　and　a　glowing　eulogy　upon　her　father；　and
Flora　took　it　all　in　with　a　natural　tenderness　that　quite　understood　it；
and　in　which　there　was　no　incoherence。

When　dinner…time　came；　Flora　drew　the　arm　of　her　new　charge　through
hers；　and　led　her　down…stairs；　and　presented　her　to　the　Patriarch　and　Mr
Pancks；　who　were　already　in　the　dining…room　waiting　to　begin。　（Mr　F。's
Aunt　was；　for　the　time；　laid　up　in　ordinary　in　her　chamber。）　By　those
gentlemen　she　was　received　according　to　their　characters；　the　Patriarch
appearing　to　do　her　some　inestimable　service　in　saying　that　he　was　glad
to　see　her；　glad　to　see　her；　and　Mr　Pancks　blowing　off　his　favourite
sound　as　a　salute。

In　that　new　presence　she　would　have　been　bashful　enough　under　any
circumstances；　and　particularly　under　Flora's　insisting　on　her
drinking　a　glass　of　wine　and　eating　of　the　best　that　was　there；　but　her
constraint　was　greatly　increased　by　Mr　Pancks。　The　demeanour　of　that
gentleman　at　first　suggested　to　her　mind　that　he　might　be　a　taker　of
likenesses；　so　intently　did　he　look　at　her；　and　so　frequently　did　he
glance　at　the　little　note…book　by　his　side。　Observing　that　he　made　no
sketch；　however；　and　that　he　talked　about　business　only；　she　began　to
have　suspicions　that　he　represented　some　creditor　of　her　father's；　the
balance　due　to　whom　was　noted　in　that　pocket　volume。　Regarded　from　this
point　of　view　Mr　Pancks's　puffings　expressed　injury　and　impatience；　and
each　of　his　louder　snorts　became　a　demand　for　payment。

But　here　again　she　was　undeceived　by　anomalous　and　incongruous　conduct
on　the　part　of　Mr　Pancks　himself。　She　had　left　the　table　half　an　hour；
and　was　at　work　alone。　Flora　had　'gone　to　lie　down'　in　the　next　room；
concurrently　with　which　retirement　a　smell　of　something　to　drink
had　broken　out　in　the　house。　The　Patriarch　was　fast　asleep；　with　his
philanthropic　mouth　open　under　a　yellow　pocket…handkerchief　in　the
dining…room。　At　this　quiet　time；　Mr　Pancks　softly　appeared　before　her；
urbanely　nodding。

'Find　it　a　little　dull；　Miss　Dorrit？'　inquired　Pancks　in　a　low　voice。

'No；　thank　you；　sir；'　said　Little　Dorrit。

'Busy；　I　see；'　observed　Mr　Pancks；　stealing　into　the　room　by　inches。
'What　are　those　now；　Miss　Dorrit？'

'Handkerchiefs。'

'Are　they；　though！'　said　Pancks。　'I　shouldn't　have　thought　it。'　Not　in
the　least　looking　at　them；　but　looking　at　Little　Dorrit。　'Perhaps　you
wonder　who　I　am。　Shall　I　tell　you？　I　am　a　fortune…teller。'

Little　Dorrit　now　began　to　think　he　was　mad。

'I　belong　body　and　soul　to　my　proprietor；'　said　Pancks；　'you　saw　my
proprietor　having　his　dinner　below。　But　I　do　a　little　in　the　other　way；
sometimes；　privately；　very　privately；　Miss　Dorrit。'

Little　Dorrit　looked　at　him　doubtfully；　and　not　without　alarm。

'I　wish　you'd　show　me　the　palm　of　your　hand；'　said　Pancks。　'I　should
like　to　have　a　look　at　it。　Don't　let　me　be　troublesome。'　He　was　so　far
troublesome　that　he　was　not　at　all　wanted　there；　but　she　laid　her　work
in　her　lap　for　a　moment；　and　held　out　her　left　hand　with　her　thimble　on
it。

'Years　of　toil；　eh？'　said　Pancks；　softly；　touching　it　with　his　blunt
forefinger。　'But　what　else　are　we　made　for？　Nothing。　Hallo！'　looking
into　the　lines。　'What's　this　with　bars？　It's　a　College！　And　what's　this
with　a　grey　gown　and　a　black　velvet　cap？　it's　a　father！　And　what's　this
with　a　clario？　It's　an　uncle！　And　what's　this　in　dancing…shoes？　It's
a　sister！　And　what's　this　straggling　about　in　an　idle　sort　of　a　way？
It's　a　brother！　And　what's　this　thinking　for　'em　all？　Why；　this　is　you；
Miss　Dorrit！'　Her　eyes　met　his　as　she　looked　up　wonderingly　into　his
face；　and　she　thought　that　although　his　were　sharp　eyes；　he　was　a
brighter　and　gentler…looking　man　than　she　had　supposed　at　dinner。　His
eyes　were　on　her　hand　again　directly；　and　her　opportunity　of　confirming
or　correcting　the　impression　was　gone。

'Now；　the　deuce　is　in　it；'　muttered　Pancks；　tracing　out　a　line　in　her
hand　with　his　clumsy　finger；　'if　this　isn't　me　in　the　corner　here！　What
do　I　want　here？　What's　behind　me？'

He　carried　his　finger　slowly　down　to　the　wrist；　and　round　the　wrist；　and
affected　to　look　at　the　back　of　the　hand　for　what　was　behind　him。

'Is　it　any　harm？'　asked　Little　Dorrit；　smiling。

'Deuce　a　bit！'　said　Pancks。　'What　do　you　think　it's　worth？'

'I　ought　to　ask　you　that。　I　am　not　the　fortune…teller。'

'True；'　said　Pancks。　'What's　it　worth？　You　shall　live　to　see；　Miss
Dorrit。'

Releasing　the　hand　by　slow　degrees；　he　drew　all　his　fingers　through　his
prongs　of　hair；　so　that　they　stood　up　in　their　most　portentous　manner；
and　repeated　slowly；　'Remember　what　I　say；　Miss　Dorrit。　You　shall　live
to　see。'

She　could　not　help　showing　that　she　was　much　surprised；　if　it　were　only
by　his　knowing　so　much　about　her。

'Ah！　That's　it！'　said　Pancks；　pointing　at　her。　'Miss　Dorrit；　not　that；
ever！'

More　surprised　than　before；　and　a　little　more　frightened；　she　looked　to
him　for　an　explanation　of　his　last　words。

'Not　that；'　said　Pancks；　making；　with　great　seriousness；　an　imitation
of　a　surprised　look　and　manner　that　appeared　to　be　unintentionally
grotesque。　'Don't　do　that。　Never　on　seeing　me；　no　matter　when；　no　matter
where。　I　am　nobody。　Don't　take　on　to　mind　me。　Don't　mention　me。　Take　no
notice。　Will　you　agree；　Miss　Dorrit？'

'I　hardly　know　what　to　say；'　returned　Little　Dorrit；　quite　astounded。
'Why？'

'Because　I　am　a　fortune…teller。　Pancks　the　gipsy。　I　haven't　told　you　so
much　of　your　fortune　yet；　Miss　Dorrit；　as　to　tell　you　what's　behind
me　on　that　little　hand。　I　have　told　you　you　shall　live　to　see。　Is　it
agreed；　Miss　Dorrit？'

'Agreed　that　I……am……to……'

'To　take　no　notice　of　me　away　from　here；　unless　I　take　on　first。　Not
to　mind　me　when　I　e　and　go。　It's　very　easy。　I　am　no　loss；　I　am　not
handsome；　I　am　not　good　pany；　I　am　only　my　proprietors　grubber。
You　need　do　no　more　than　think；　〃Ah！　Pancks　the　gipsy　at　his
fortune…telling……he'll　tell　the　rest　of　my　fortune　one　day……I　shall　live
to　know　it。〃　Is　it　agreed；　Miss　Dorrit？'

'Ye…es；'　faltered　Little　Dorrit；　whom　he　greatly　confused；　'I　suppose
so；　while　you　do　no　harm。'

'Good！'　Mr　Pancks　glanced　at　the　wall　of　the　adjoining　room；　and　stooped
forward。　'Honest　creature；　woman　of　capital　points；　but　heedless　and
a　loose　talker；　Miss　Dorrit。'　With　that　he　rubbed　his　hands　as　if　the
interview　had　been　very　satisfactory　to　him；　panted　away　to　the　door；
and　urbanely　nodded　himself　out　again。

If　Little　Dorrit　were　beyond　measure　perplexed　by　this　curious　conduct
on　the　part　of　her　new　acquaintance；　and　by　finding　herself　involved
in　this　singular　treaty；　her　perplexity　was　not　diminished　by　ensuing
circumstances。　Besides　that　Mr　Pancks　took　every　opportunity　afforded
him　in　Mr　Casby's　house　of　significantly　glancing　at　her　and　snorting
at　her……which　was　not　much；　after　what　he　had　done　already……he　began　to
pervade　her　daily　life。　She　saw　him　in　the　street；　constantly。　When　she
went　to　Mr　Casby's；　he　was　always　there。　When　she　went　to　Mrs　Clennam's；
he　came　there　on　any　pretence；　as　if　to　keep　her　in　his　sight。　A　week
had　not　gone　by；　when　she　found　him　to　her　astonishment　in　the　Lodge　one
night；　conversing　with　the　turnkey　on　duty；　and　to　all　appearance　one
of　his　familiar　panions。　Her　next　surprise　was　to　find　him　equally　at
his　ease　within　the　prison；　to　hear　of　his　presenting　himself　among
the　visitors　at　her　father's　Sunday　levee；　to　see　him　arm　in　arm　with
a　Collegiate　friend　about　the　yard；　to　learn；　from　Fame；　that　he　had
greatly　distinguished　himself　one　evening　at　the　social　club　that　held
its　meetings　in　the　Snuggery；　by　addressing　a　speech　to　the　members
of　the　institution；　singing　a　song；　and　treating　the　pany　to　five
gallons　of　ale……report　madly　added　a　bushel　of　shrimps。　The　effect　on
Mr　Plornish　of　such　of　these　phenomena　as　he　became　an　eye…witness　of　in
his　faithful　visits；　made　an　impression　on　Little　Dorrit　only　second　to
that　produced　by　the　phenomena　themselves。　They　seemed　to　gag　and　bind
him。　He　could　only　stare；　and　sometimes　weakly　mutter　that　it　wouldn't
be　believed　down　Bleeding　Heart　Yard　that　this　was　Pancks；　but　he　never
said　a　word　more；　or　made　a　sign　more；　even　to　Little　Dorrit。

Mr　Pancks　crowned　his　mysteries　by　making　himself　acquainted　with　Tip
in　some　unknown　manner；　and　taking　a　Sunday　saunter　into　the　College
on　that　gentleman's　arm。　Throughout　he　never　took　any　notice　of　Little
Dorrit；　save　once　or　twice　when　he　happened　to　e　close　to　her　and
there　was　no　one　very　near；　on　which　occasions；　he　said　in　passing；
with　a　friendly　look　and　a　puff　of　encouragement；　'Pancks　the
gipsy……fortune…telling。'

Little　Dorrit　worked　and　strove　as　usual；　wondering　at　all　this；　but
keeping　her　wonder；　as　she　had　from　her　earliest　years　kept　many　heavier
loads；　in　her　own　breast。　A　change　had　stolen；　and　was　stealing　yet；
over　the　patient　heart。　Every　day　found　her　something　more　retiring
than　the　day　before。　To　pass　in　and　out　of　the　prison　unnoticed；　and
elsewhere　to　be　overlooked　and　forgotten；　were；　for　herself；　her　chief
desires。

To　her　own　room　too；　strangely　assorted　room　for　her　delicate　youth
and　character；　she　was　glad　to　retreat　as　often　as　she　could　without
desertion　of　any　duty。　There　were　afternoon　times　when　she　was
unemployed；　when　visitors　dropped　in　to　play　a　hand　at　cards　with　her
father；　when　she　could　be　spared　and　was　better　away。　Then　she　would
flit　along　the　yard；　climb　the　scores　of　stairs　that　led　to　her　room；
and　take　her　seat　at　the　window。　Many　binations　did　those　spikes
upon　the　wall　assume；　many　light　shapes　did　the　strong　iron　weave　itself
into；　many　golden　touches　fell　upon　the　rust；　while　Little　Dorrit　sat
there　musing。　New　zig…zags　sprung　into　the　cruel　pattern　sometimes；　when
she　saw　it　through　a　burst　of　tears；　but　beautified　or　hardened　still；
always　over　it　and　under　it　and　through　it；　she　was　fain　to　look　in　her
solitude；　seeing　everything　with　that　ineffaceable　brand。

A　garret；　and　a　Marshalsea　garret　without　promise；　was　Little
Dorrit's　room。　Beautifully　kept；　it　was　ugly　in　itself；　and　had　little
but　cleanliness　and　air　to　set　it　off；　for　what　embellishment　she　had
ever　been　able　to　buy；　had　gone　to　her　father's　room。　Howbeit；　for　this
poor　place　she　showed　an　increasing　love；　and　to　sit　in　it　alone　became
her　favourite　rest。

Insomuch；　that　on　a　certain　afternoon　during　the　Pancks　mysteries；　when
she　was　seated　at　her　window；　and　heard　Maggy's　well…known　step　ing
up　the　stairs；　she　was　very　much　disturbed　by　the　apprehension　of　being
summoned　away。　As　Maggy's　step　came　higher　up　and　nearer；　she　trembled
and　faltered；　and　it　was　as　much　as　she　could　do　to　speak；　when　Maggy　at
length　appeared。

'Please；　Little　Mother；'　said　Maggy；　panting　for　breath；　'you　must　e
down　and　see　him。　He's　here。'

'Who；　Maggy？'

'Who；　o'　course　Mr　Clennam。　He's　in　your　father's　room；　and　he　says　to
me；　Maggy；　will　you　be　so　kind　and　go　and　say　it's　only　me。'

'I　am　not　very　well；　Maggy。　I　had　better　not　go。　I　am　going　to　lie　down。
See！　I　lie　down　now；　to　ease　my　head。　Say；　with　my　grateful　regard；　that
you　left　me　so；　o