little dorrit-信丽(英文版)-第62章

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the　outside　of　his　golden　cage；　with　the　aid　of　his　cruel　beak　and　black
tongue。

'Adieu；　Miss　Dorrit；　with　best　wishes；'　said　Mrs　Merdle。　'If　we　could
only　e　to　a　Millennium；　or　something　of　that　sort；　I　for　one　might
have　the　pleasure　of　knowing　a　number　of　charming　and　talented　persons
from　whom　I　am　at　present　excluded。　A　more　primitive　state　of　society
would　be　delicious　to　me。　There　used　to　be　a　poem　when　I　learnt　lessons；
something　about　Lo　the　poor　Indians　whose　something　mind！　If　a　few
thousand　persons　moving　in　Society；　could　only　go　and　be　Indians；　I
would　put　my　name　down　directly；　but　as；　moving　in　Society；　we　can't　be
Indians；　unfortunately……Good　morning！'

They　came　down…stairs　with　powder　before　them　and　powder　behind；　the
elder　sister　haughty　and　the　younger　sister　humbled；　and　were　shut　out
into　unpowdered　Harley　Street；　Cavendish　Square。


'Well？'　said　Fanny；　when　they　had　gone　a　little　way　without　speaking。
'Have　you　nothing　to　say；　Amy？'

'Oh；　I　don't　know　what　to　say！'　she　answered；　distressed。　'You　didn't
like　this　young　man；　Fanny？'

'Like　him？　He　is　almost　an　idiot。'

'I　am　so　sorry……don't　be　hurt……but；　since　you　ask　me　what　I　have　to
say；　I　am　so　very　sorry；　Fanny；　that　you　suffered　this　lady　to　give　you
anything。'

'You　little　Fool！'　returned　her　sister；　shaking　her　with　the　sharp　pull
she　gave　her　arm。　'Have　you　no　spirit　at　all？　But　that's　just　the　way！
You　have　no　self…respect；　you　have　no　being　pride；　just　as　you　allow
yourself　to　be　followed　about　by　a　contemptible　little　Chivery　of　a
thing；'　with　the　scornfullest　emphasis；　'you　would　let　your　family　be
trodden　on；　and　never　turn。'

'Don't　say　that；　dear　Fanny。　I　do　what　I　can　for　them。'

'You　do　what　you　can　for　them！'　repeated　Fanny；　walking　her　on　very
fast。　'Would　you　let　a　woman　like　this；　whom　you　could　see；　if　you　had
any　experience　of　anything；　to　be　as　false　and　insolent　as　a　woman　can
be……would　you　let　her　put　her　foot　upon　your　family；　and　thank　her　for
it？'

'No；　Fanny；　I　am　sure。'　'Then　make　her　pay　for　it；　you　mean　little
thing。　What　else　can　you　make　her　do？　Make　her　pay　for　it；　you　stupid
child；　and　do　your　family　some　credit　with　the　money！'

They　spoke　no　more　all　the　way　back　to　the　lodging　where　Fanny　and　her
uncle　lived。　When　they　arrived　there；　they　found　the　old　man　practising
his　clario　in　the　dolefullest　manner　in　a　corner　of　the　room。
Fanny　had　a　posite　meal　to　make；　of　chops；　and　porter；　and　tea；　and
indignantly　pretended　to　prepare　it　for　herself；　though　her　sister　did
all　that　in　quiet　reality。　When　at　last　Fanny　sat　down　to　eat　and　drink；
she　threw　the　table　implements　about　and　was　angry　with　her　bread；　much
as　her　father　had　been　last　night。

'If　you　despise　me；'　she　said；　bursting　into　vehement　tears；　'because　I
am　a　dancer；　why　did　you　put　me　in　the　way　of　being　one？

It　was　your　doing。　You　would　have　me　stoop　as　low　as　the　ground　before
this　Mrs　Merdle；　and　let　her　say　what　she　liked　and　do　what　she　liked；
and　hold　us　all　in　contempt；　and　tell　me　so　to　my　face。　Because　I　am　a
dancer！'

'O　Fanny！'

'And　Tip；　too；　poor　fellow。　She　is　to　disparage　him　just　as　much　as　she
likes；　without　any　check……I　suppose　because　he　has　been　in　the　law；　and
the　docks；　and　different　things。　Why；　it　was　your　doing；　Amy。　You　might
at　least　approve　of　his　being　defended。'

All　this　time　the　uncle　was　dolefully　blowing　his　clario　in　the
corner；　sometimes　taking　it　an　inch　or　so　from　his　mouth　for　a　moment
while　he　stopped　to　gaze　at　them；　with　a　vague　impression　that　somebody
had　said　something。

'And　your　father；　your　poor　father；　Amy。　Because　he　is　not　free　to　show
himself　and　to　speak　for　himself；　you　would　let　such　people　insult　him
with　impunity。　If　you　don't　feel　for　yourself　because　you　go　out　to
work；　you　might　at　least　feel　for　him；　I　should　think；　knowing　what　he
has　undergone　so　long。'

Poor　Little　Dorrit　felt　the　injustice　of　this　taunt　rather　sharply。

The　remembrance　of　last　night　added　a　barbed　point　to　it。　She　said
nothing　in　reply；　but　turned　her　chair　from　the　table　towards　the　fire。
Uncle；　after　making　one　more　pause；　blew　a　dismal　wail　and　went　on
again。

Fanny　was　passionate　with　the　tea…cups　and　the　bread　as　long　as　her
passion　lasted；　and　then　protested　that　she　was　the　wretchedest　girl　in
the　world；　and　she　wished　she　was　dead。　After　that；　her　crying　became
remorseful；　and　she　got　up　and　put　her　arms　round　her　sister。　Little
Dorrit　tried　to　stop　her　from　saying　anything；　but　she　answered　that
she　would；　she　must！　Thereupon　she　said　again；　and　again；　'I　beg　your
pardon；　Amy；'　and　'Forgive　me；　Amy；'　almost　as　passionately　as　she　had
said　what　she　regretted。

'But　indeed；　indeed；　Amy；'　she　resumed　when　they　were　seated　in　sisterly
accord　side　by　side；　'I　hope　and　I　think　you　would　have　seen　this
differently；　if　you　had　known　a　little　more　of　Society。'

'Perhaps　I　might；　Fanny；'　said　the　mild　Little　Dorrit。

'You　see；　while　you　have　been　domestic　and　resignedly　shut　up　there；
Amy；'　pursued　her　sister；　gradually　beginning　to　patronise；　'I　have
been　out；　moving　more　in　Society；　and　may　have　been　getting　proud　and
spirited……more　than　I　ought　to　be；　perhaps？'

Little　Dorrit　answered　'Yes。　O　yes！'

'And　while　you　have　been　thinking　of　the　dinner　or　the　clothes；　I　may
have　been　thinking；　you　know；　of　the　family。　Now；　may　it　not　be　so；
Amy？'

Little　Dorrit　again　nodded　'Yes；'　with　a　more　cheerful　face　than　heart。

'Especially　as　we　know；'　said　Fanny；　'that　there　certainly　is　a　tone　in
the　place　to　which　you　have　been　so　true；　which　does　belong　to　it；　and
which　does　make　it　different　from　other　aspects　of　Society。　So　kiss　me
once　again；　Amy　dear；　and　we　will　agree　that　we　may　both　be　right；　and
that　you　are　a　tranquil；　domestic；　home…loving；　good　girl。'

The　clario　had　been　lamenting　most　pathetically　during　this　dialogue；
but　was　cut　short　now　by　Fanny's　announcement　that　it　was　time　to　go；
which　she　conveyed　to　her　uncle　by　shutting　up　his　scrap　of　music；　and
taking　the　clario　out　of　his　mouth。

Little　Dorrit　parted　from　them　at　the　door；　and　hastened　back　to　the
Marshalsea。　It　fell　dark　there　sooner　than　elsewhere；　and　going　into　it
that　evening　was　like　going　into　a　deep　trench。　The　shadow　of　the　wall
was　on　every　object。　Not　least　upon　the　figure　in　the　old　grey　gown　and
the　black　velvet　cap；　as　it　turned　towards　her　when　she　opened　the　door
of　the　dim　room。

'Why　not　upon　me　too！'　thought　Little　Dorrit；　with　the　door　Yet　in　her
hand。　'It　was　not　unreasonable　in　Fanny。'




CHAPTER　21。　Mr　Merdle's　plaint


Upon　that　establishment　of　state；　the　Merdle　establishment　in　Harley
Street；　Cavendish　Square；　there　was　the　shadow　of　no　more　mon　wall
than　the　fronts　of　other　establishments　of　state　on　the　opposite　side　of
the　street。　Like　unexceptionable　Society；　the　opposing　rows　of　houses　in
Harley　Street　were　very　grim　with　one　another。　Indeed；　the　mansions　and
their　inhabitants　were　so　much　alike　in　that　respect；　that　the　people
were　often　to　be　found　drawn　up　on　opposite　sides　of　dinner…tables；　in
the　shade　of　their　own　loftiness；　staring　at　the　other　side　of　the　way
with　the　dullness　of　the　houses。

Everybody　knows　how　like　the　street　the　two　dinner…rows　of　people　who
take　their　stand　by　the　street　will　be。　The　expressionless　uniform
twenty　houses；　all　to　be　knocked　at　and　rung　at　in　the　same　form；　all
approachable　by　the　same　dull　steps；　all　fended　off　by　the　same　pattern
of　railing；　all　with　the　same　impracticable　fire…escapes；　the　same
inconvenient　fixtures　in　their　heads；　and　everything　without　exception
to　be　taken　at　a　high　valuation……who　has　not　dined　with　these？　The
house　so　drearily　out　of　repair；　the　occasional　bow…window；　the　stuccoed
house；　the　newly…fronted　house；　the　corner　house　with　nothing　but
angular　rooms；　the　house　with　the　blinds　always　down；　the　house　with　the
hatchment　always　up；　the　house　where　the　collector　has　called　for　one
quarter　of　an　Idea；　and　found　nobody　at　home……who　has　not　dined　with
these？　The　house　that　nobody　will　take；　and　is　to　be　had　a　bargain……who
does　not　know　her？　The　showy　house　that　was　taken　for　life　by　the
disappointed　gentleman；　and　which　does　not　suit　him　at　all……who　is
unacquainted　with　that　haunted　habitation？

Harley　Street；　Cavendish　Square；　was　more　than　aware　of　Mr　and　Mrs
Merdle。　Intruders　there　were　in　Harley　Street；　of　whom　it　was　not　aware；
but　Mr　and　Mrs　Merdle　it　delighted　to　honour。　Society　was　aware　of
Mr　and　Mrs　Merdle。　Society　had　said　'Let　us　license　them；　let　us　know
them。'

Mr　Merdle　was　immensely　rich；　a　man　of　prodigious　enterprise；　a
Midas　without　the　ears；　who　turned　all　he　touched　to　gold。　He　was　in
everything　good；　from　banking　to　building。　He　was　in　Parliament；　of
course。　He　was　in　the　City；　necessarily。　He　was　Chairman　of　this；
Trustee　of　that；　President　of　the　other。　The　weightiest　of　men　had　said
to　projectors；　'Now；　what　name　have　you　got？　Have　you　got　Merdle？'　And；
the　reply　being　in　the　negative；　had　said；　'Then　I　won't　look　at　you。'

This　great　and　fortunate　man　had　provided　that　extensive　bosom　which
required　so　much　room　to　be　unfeeling　enough　in；　with　a　nest　of　crim