little dorrit-信丽(英文版)-第45章

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happy　for　once　in　her　youthful　appearance；　feigned　to　cling　to　and　rely
upon　Maggy。　And　more　than　once　some　voice；　from　among　a　knot　of　brawling
or　prowling　figures　in　their　path；　had　called　out　to　the　rest　to　'let
the　woman　and　the　child　go　by！'

So；　the　woman　and　the　child　had　gone　by；　and　gone　on；　and　five　had
sounded　from　the　steeples。　They　were　walking　slowly　towards　the　east；
already　looking　for　the　first　pale　streak　of　day；　when　a　woman　came
after　them。

'What　are　you　doing　with　the　child？'　she　said　to　Maggy。

She　was　young……far　too　young　to　be　there；　Heaven　knows！……and　neither
ugly　nor　wicked…looking。　She　spoke　coarsely；　but　with　no　naturally
coarse　voice；　there　was　even　something　musical　in　its　sound。　'What　are
you　doing　with　yourself？'　retorted　Maggy；　for　want　Of　a　better　answer。

'Can't　you　see；　without　my　telling　you？'

'I　don't　know　as　I　can；'　said　Maggy。

'Killing　myself！　Now　I　have　answered　you；　answer　me。　What　are　you　doing
with　the　child？'

The　supposed　child　kept　her　head　drooped　down；　and　kept　her　form　close
at　Maggy's　side。

'Poor　thing！'　said　the　woman。　'Have　you　no　feeling；　that　you　keep　her
out　in　the　cruel　streets　at　such　a　time　as　this？　Have　you　no　eyes；　that
you　don't　see　how　delicate　and　slender　she　is？　Have　you　no　sense　（you
don't　look　as　if　you　had　much）　that　you　don't　take　more　pity　on　this
cold　and　trembling　little　hand？'

She　had　stepped　across　to　that　side；　and　held　the　hand　between　her　own
two；　chafing　it。　'Kiss　a　poor　lost　creature；　dear；'　she　said；　bending
her　face；　'and　tell　me　where's　she　taking　you。'

Little　Dorrit　turned　towards　her。

'Why；　my　God！'　she　said；　recoiling；　'you're　a　woman！'

'Don't　mind　that！'　said　Little　Dorrit；　clasping　one　of　her　hands　that
had　suddenly　released　hers。　'I　am　not　afraid　of　you。'

'Then　you　had　better　be；'　she　answered。　'Have　you　no　mother？'

'No。'

'No　father？'

'Yes；　a　very　dear　one。'

'Go　home　to　him；　and　be　afraid　of　me。　Let　me　go。　Good　night！'

'I　must　thank　you　first；　let　me　speak　to　you　as　if　I　really　were　a
child。'

'You　can't　do　it；'　said　the　woman。　'You　are　kind　and　innocent；　but　you
can't　look　at　me　out　of　a　child's　eyes。　I　never　should　have　touched　you；
but　I　thought　that　you　were　a　child。'　And　with　a　strange；　wild　cry；　she
went　away。

No　day　yet　in　the　sky；　but　there　was　day　in　the　resounding　stones　of
the　streets；　in　the　waggons；　carts；　and　coaches；　in　the　workers　going
to　various　occupations；　in　the　opening　of　early　shops；　in　the　traffic
at　markets；　in　the　stir　of　the　riverside。　There　was　ing　day　in　the
flaring　lights；　with　a　feebler　colour　in　them　than　they　would　have　had
at　another　time；　ing　day　in　the　increased　sharpness　of　the　air；　and
the　ghastly　dying　of　the　night。

They　went　back　again　to　the　gate；　intending　to　wait　there　now　until　it
should　be　opened；　but　the　air　was　so　raw　and　cold　that　Little　Dorrit；
leading　Maggy　about　in　her　sleep；　kept　in　motion。　Going　round　by　the
Church；　she　saw　lights　there；　and　the　door　open；　and　went　up　the　steps
and　looked　in。

'Who's　that？'　cried　a　stout　old　man；　who　was　putting　on　a　nightcap　as　if
he　were　going　to　bed　in　a　vault。

'It's　no　one　particular；　sir；'　said　Little　Dorrit。

'Stop！'　cried　the　man。　'Let's　have　a　look　at　you！'

This　caused　her　to　turn　back　again　in　the　act　of　going　out；　and　to
present　herself　and　her　charge　before　him。

'I　thought　so！'　said　he。　'I　know　YOU。'

'We　have　often　seen　each　other；'　said　Little　Dorrit；　recognising　the
sexton；　or　the　beadle；　or　the　verger；　or　whatever　he　was；　'when　I　have
been　at　church　here。'

'More　than　that；　we've　got　your　birth　in　our　Register；　you　know；　you're
one　of　our　curiosities。'

'Indeed！'　said　Little　Dorrit。

'To　be　sure。　As　the　child　of　the……by…the…bye；　how　did　you　get　out　so
early？'

'We　were　shut　out　last　night；　and　are　waiting　to　get　in。'

'You　don't　mean　it？　And　there's　another　hour　good　yet！　e　into　the
vestry。　You'll　find　a　fire　in　the　vestry；　on　account　of　the　painters。
I'm　waiting　for　the　painters；　or　I　shouldn't　be　here；　you　may　depend
upon　it。　One　of　our　curiosities　mustn't　be　cold　when　we　have　it　in　our
power　to　warm　her　up　fortable。　e　along。'

He　was　a　very　good　old　fellow；　in　his　familiar　way；　and　having　stirred
the　vestry　fire；　he　looked　round　the　shelves　of　registers　for　a
particular　volume。　'Here　you　are；　you　see；'　he　said；　taking　it　down　and
turning　the　leaves。　'Here　you'll　find　yourself；　as　large　as　life。　Amy；
daughter　of　William　and　Fanny　Dorrit。　Born；　Marshalsea　Prison；　Parish　of
St　George。　And　we　tell　people　that　you　have　lived　there；　without　so　much
as　a　day's　or　a　night's　absence；　ever　since。　Is　it　true？'

'Quite　true；　till　last　night。'　'Lord！'　But　his　surveying　her　with　an
admiring　gaze　suggested　Something　else　to　him；　to　wit：　'I　am　sorry　to
see；　though；　that　you　are　faint　and　tired。　Stay　a　bit。　I'll　get　some
cushions　out　of　the　church；　and　you　and　your　friend　shall　lie　down
before　the　fire。

Don't　be　afraid　of　not　going　in　to　join　your　father　when　the　gate　opens。
I'll　call　you。'

He　soon　brought　in　the　cushions；　and　strewed　them　on　the　ground。

'There　you　are；　you　see。　Again　as　large　as　life。　Oh；　never　mind
thanking。　I've　daughters　of　my　own。　And　though　they　weren't　born　in　the
Marshalsea　Prison；　they　might　have　been；　if　I　had　been；　in　my　ways　of
carrying　on；　of　your　father's　breed。　Stop　a　bit。　I　must　put　something
under　the　cushion　for　your　head。　Here's　a　burial　volume；　just　the
thing！　We　have　got　Mrs　Bangham　in　this　book。　But　what　makes　these　books
interesting　to　most　people　is……not　who's　in　'em；　but　who　isn't……who's
ing；　you　know；　and　when。　That's　the　interesting　question。'

mendingly　looking　back　at　the　pillow　he　had　improvised；　he　left　them
to　their　hour's　repose。　Maggy　was　snoring　already；　and　Little　Dorrit
was　soon　fast　asleep　with　her　head　resting　on　that　sealed　book　of　Fate；
untroubled　by　its　mysterious　blank　leaves。

This　was　Little　Dorrit's　party。　The　shame；　desertion；　wretchedness；　and
exposure　of　the　great　capital；　the　wet；　the　cold；　the　slow　hours；　and
the　swift　clouds　of　the　dismal　night。　This　was　the　party　from　which
Little　Dorrit　went　home；　jaded；　in　the　first　grey　mist　of　a　rainy
morning。




CHAPTER　15。　Mrs　Flintwinch　has　another　Dream


The　debilitated　old　house　in　the　city；　wrapped　in　its　mantle　of　soot；
and　leaning　heavily　on　the　crutches　that　had　partaken　of　its　decay　and
worn　out　with　it；　never　knew　a　healthy　or　a　cheerful　interval；　let　what
would　betide。　If　the　sun　ever　touched　it；　it　was　but　with　a　ray；　and
that　was　gone　in　half　an　hour；　if　the　moonlight　ever　fell　upon　it；　it
was　only　to　put　a　few　patches　on　its　doleful　cloak；　and　make　it　look
more　wretched。　The　stars；　to　be　sure；　coldly　watched　it　when　the　nights
and　the　smoke　were　clear　enough；　and　all　bad　weather　stood　by　it　with
a　rare　fidelity。　You　should　alike　find　rain；　hail；　frost；　and　thaw
lingering　in　that　dismal　enclosure　when　they　had　vanished　from　other
places；　and　as　to　snow；　you　should　see　it　there　for　weeks；　long　after
it　had　changed　from　yellow　to　black；　slowly　weeping　away　its　grimy　life。
The　place　had　no　other　adherents。　As　to　street　noises；　the　rumbling　of
wheels　in　the　lane　merely　rushed　in　at　the　gateway　in　going　past；　and
rushed　out　again：　making　the　listening　Mistress　Affery　feel　as　if　she
were　deaf；　and　recovered　the　sense　of　hearing　by　instantaneous　flashes。
So　with　whistling；　singing；　talking；　laughing；　and　all　pleasant　human
sounds。　They　leaped　the　gap　in　a　moment；　and　went　upon　their　way。　The
varying　light　of　fire　and　candle　in　Mrs　Clennam's　room　made　the　greatest
change　that　ever　broke　the　dead　monotony　of　the　spot。　In　her　two　long
narrow　windows；　the　fire　shone　sullenly　all　day；　and　sullenly　all　night。
On　rare　occasions　it　flashed　up　passionately；　as　she　did；　but　for　the
most　part　it　was　suppressed；　like　her；　and　preyed　upon　itself　evenly　and
slowly。　During　many　hours　of　the　short　winter　days；　however；　when　it　was
dusk　there　early　in　the　afternoon；　changing　distortions　of　herself
in　her　wheeled　chair；　of　Mr　Flintwinch　with　his　wry　neck；　of　Mistress
Affery　ing　and　going；　would　be　thrown　upon　the　house　wall　that　was
over　the　gateway；　and　would　hover　there　like　shadows　from　a　great　magic
lantern。　As　the　room…ridden　invalid　settled　for　the　night；　these　would
gradually　disappear：　Mistress　Affery's　magnified　shadow　always　flitting
about；　last；　until　it　finally　glided　away　into　the　air；　as　though　she
were　off　upon　a　witch　excursion。　Then　the　solitary　light　would　burn
unchangingly；　until　it　burned　pale　before　the　dawn；　and　at　last　died
under　the　breath　of　Mrs　Affery；　as　her　shadow　descended　on　it　from　the
witch…region　of　sleep。

Strange；　if　the　little　sick…room　fire　were　in　effect　a　beacon　fire；
summoning　some　one；　and　that　the　most　unlikely　some　one　in　the　world；
to　the　spot　that　MUST　be　e　to。　Strange；　if　the　little　sick…room　light
were　in　effect　a　watch…light；　burning　in　that　place　every　night　until
an　appointed　event　should　be　watched　out！　Which　of　the　vast　multitude
of　travellers；　under　the　sun　and　the　stars；　climbing　the　dusty　hills
and　toiling　along　the　weary　plains；　journeying　by　land　and　journeying　by
sea；　ing　and　going　so　strangely；　to