第127章

’Thankyou，John。I——ha——I’llwriteit，John。’

Hishandshooksothathewasalongtimewritingit，andwroteitinatremulousscrawlatlast。Itwasachequeforonehundredpounds。Hefoldeditup，putitinYoungjohn’shand，andpressedthehandinhis。

’Ihopeyou’ll——ha——overlook——hum——whathaspassed，John。’

’Don’tspeakofit，sir，onanyaccounts。Idon’tinanywaysbearmalice，I’msure。’

ButnothingwhileJohnwastherecouldchangeJohn’sfacetoitsnaturalcolourandexpression，orrestoreJohn’snaturalmanner。

’And，John，’saidMrDorrit，givinghishandafinalpressure，andreleasingit，’Ihopewe——ha——agreethatwehavespokentogetherinconfidence；andthatyouwillabstain，ingoingout，fromsayinganythingtoanyonethatmight——hum——suggestthat——ha——onceI——’

’Oh!Iassureyou，sir，’returnedJohnChivery，’inmypoorhumbleway，sir，I’mtooproudandhonourabletodoit，sir。’

MrDorritwasnottooproudandhonourabletolistenatthedoorthathemightascertainforhimselfwhetherJohnreallywentstraightout，orlingeredtohaveanytalkwithanyone。Therewasnodoubtthathewentdirectoutatthedoor，andawaydownthestreetwithaquickstep。Afterremainingaloneforanhour，MrDorritrangfortheCourier，whofoundhimwithhischaironthehearth-rug，sittingwithhisbacktowardshimandhisfacetothefire。’Youcantakethatbundleofcigarstosmokeonthejourney，ifyoulike，’saidMrDorrit，withacarelesswaveofhishand。

’Ha——broughtby——hum——littleofferingfrom——ha——sonofoldtenantofmine。’

Nextmorning’ssunsawMrDorrit’sequipageupontheDoverroad，whereeveryred-jacketedpostilionwasthesignofacruelhouse，establishedfortheunmercifulplunderingoftravellers。Thewholebusinessofthehumanrace，betweenLondonandDover，beingspoliation，MrDorritwaswaylaidatDartford，pillagedatGravesend，rifledatRochester，fleecedatSittingbourne，andsackedatCanterbury。However，itbeingtheCourier’sbusinesstogethimoutofthehandsofthebanditti，theCourierbroughthimoffateverystage；andsothered-jacketswentgleamingmerrilyalongthespringlandscape，risingandfallingtoaregularmeasure，betweenMrDorritinhissnugcornerandthenextchalkyriseinthedustyhighway。

Anotherday’ssunsawhimatCalais。AndhavingnowgottheChannelbetweenhimselfandJohnChivery，hebegantofeelsafe，andtofindthattheforeignairwaslightertobreathethantheairofEngland。

OnagainbytheheavyFrenchroadsforParis。Havingnowquiterecoveredhisequanimity，MrDorrit，inhissnugcorner，felltocastle-buildingasherodealong。Itwasevidentthathehadaverylargecastleinhand。Alldaylonghewasrunningtowersup，takingtowersdown，addingawinghere，puttingonabattlementthere，lookingtothewalls，strengtheningthedefences，givingornamentaltouchestotheinterior，makinginallrespectsasuperbcastleofit。Hispreoccupiedfacesoclearlydenotedthepursuitinwhichhewasengaged，thateverycrippleatthepost-houses，notblind，whoshovedhislittlebatteredtin-boxinatthecarriagewindowforCharityinthenameofHeaven，CharityinthenameofourLady，CharityinthenameofalltheSaints，knewaswellwhatworkhewasat，astheircountrymanLeBruncouldhaveknownithimself，thoughhehadmadethatEnglishtravellerthesubjectofaspecialphysiognomicaltreatise。

ArrivedatParis，andrestingtherethreedays，MrDorritstrolledmuchaboutthestreetsalone，lookinginattheshop-windows，andparticularlythejewellers’windows。Ultimately，hewentintothemostfamousjeweller’s，andsaidhewantedtobuyalittlegiftforalady。

Itwasacharminglittlewomantowhomhesaidit——asprightlylittlewoman，dressedinperfecttaste，whocameoutofagreenvelvetbowertoattenduponhim，frompostingupsomedaintylittlebooksofaccountwhichonecouldhardlysupposetoberuledfortheentryofanyarticlesmorecommercialthankisses，atadaintylittleshiningdeskwhichlookedinitse