'There is,' said Mr Flintwinch, with more than his usual deliberation,

as he met, for a moment, Mr Blandois' shining eyes, which were restless;

'there is a coffee-house and tavern close here, which, so far, I can

recommend; but there's no style about it.'

'I dispense with style!' said Mr Blandois, waving his hand. 'Do me the

honour to show me the house, and introduce me there (if I am not too

troublesome), and I shall be infinitely obliged.' Mr Flintwinch, upon

this, looked up his hat, and lighted Mr Blandois across the hall again.

As he put the candle on a bracket, where the dark old panelling almost

served as an extinguisher for it, he bethought himself of going up to

tell the invalid that he would not be absent five minutes. 'Oblige me,'

said the visitor, on his saying so, 'by presenting my card of visit. Do

me the favour to add that I shall be happy to wait on Mrs Clennam, to

offer my personal compliments, and to apologise for having occasioned

any agitation in this tranquil corner, if it should suit her convenience

to endure the presence of a stranger for a few minutes, after he shall

have changed his wet clothes and fortified himself with something to eat

and drink.'

Jeremiah made all despatch, and said, on his return, 'She'll be glad

to see you, sir; but, being conscious that her sick room has no

attractions, wishes me to say that she won't hold you to your offer, in

case you should think better of it.'

'To think better of it,' returned the gallant Blandois, 'would be to

slight a lady; to slight a lady would be to be deficient in chivalry

towards the sex; and chivalry towards the sex is a part of my

character!' Thus expressing himself, he threw the draggled skirt of his

cloak over his shoulder, and accompanied Mr Flintwinch to the tavern;

taking up on the road a porter who was waiting with his portmanteau on

the outer side of the gateway.

The house was kept in a homely manner, and the condescension of Mr

Blandois was infinite. It seemed to fill to inconvenience the little bar

in which the widow landlady and her two daughters received him; it was

much too big for the narrow wainscoted room with a bagatelle-board in

it, that was first proposed for his reception; it perfectly swamped the

little private holiday sitting-room of the family, which was finally

given up to him. Here, in dry clothes and scented linen, with sleeked

hair, a great ring on each forefinger and a massive show of watch-chain,

Mr Blandois waiting for his dinner, lolling on a window-seat with his

knees drawn up, looked (for all the difference in the setting of the

jewel) fearfully and wonderfully like a certain Monsieur Rigaud who had

once so waited for his breakfast, lying on the stone ledge of the iron

grating of a cell in a villainous dungeon at Marseilles.




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