As Clennam had a purpose in remaining, he said what he could responsive

to these sentiments, and stood at the window with their enunciator,

while Maggy and her Little Mother washed the tea-service and cleared it

away. He noticed that his companion stood at the window with the air of

an affable and accessible Sovereign, and that, when any of his people in

the yard below looked up, his recognition of their salutes just stopped

short of a blessing.

When Little Dorrit had her work on the table, and Maggy hers on the

bedstead, Fanny fell to tying her bonnet as a preliminary to her

departure. Arthur, still having his purpose, still remained. At this

time the door opened, without any notice, and Mr Tip came in. He kissed

Amy as she started up to meet him, nodded to Fanny, nodded to his

father, gloomed on the visitor without further recognition, and sat

down.

'Tip, dear,' said Little Dorrit, mildly, shocked by this, 'don't you

see--' 'Yes, I see, Amy. If you refer to the presence of any visitor you have

here--I say, if you refer to that,' answered Tip, jerking his head with

emphasis towards his shoulder nearest Clennam, 'I see!' 'Is that all you say?'

'That's all I say. And I suppose,' added the lofty young man, after a

moment's pause, 'that visitor will understand me, when I say that's all

I say. In short, I suppose the visitor will understand that he hasn't

used me like a gentleman.'

'I do not understand that,' observed the obnoxious personage referred to

with tranquillity.

'No? Why, then, to make it clearer to you, sir, I beg to let you know

that when I address what I call a properly-worded appeal, and an urgent

appeal, and a delicate appeal, to an individual, for a small temporary

accommodation, easily within his power--easily within his power,

mind!--and when that individual writes back word to me that he begs to

be excused, I consider that he doesn't treat me like a gentleman.'

The Father of the Marshalsea, who had surveyed his son in silence, no

sooner heard this sentiment, than he began in angry voice:-'How dare you--'

But his son stopped him. 'Now, don't ask me how I dare, father, because that's bosh. As to the

fact of the line of conduct I choose to adopt towards the individual

present, you ought to be proud of my showing a proper spirit.' 'I should think so!' cried Fanny. 'A proper spirit?' said the Father. 'Yes, a proper spirit; a becoming

spirit. Is it come to this that my son teaches me--ME--spirit!'




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