Into this mixture Mrs Clennam dipped certain

of the rusks, and ate them; while the old woman buttered certain other

of the rusks, which were to be eaten alone. When the invalid had eaten

all the rusks and drunk all the mixture, the two trays were removed;

and the books and the candle, watch, handkerchief, and spectacles were

replaced upon the table. She then put on the spectacles and read certain

passages aloud from a book--sternly, fiercely, wrathfully--praying that

her enemies (she made them by her tone and manner expressly hers) might

be put to the edge of the sword, consumed by fire, smitten by plagues

and leprosy, that their bones might be ground to dust, and that they

might be utterly exterminated. As she read on, years seemed to fall

away from her son like the imaginings of a dream, and all the old dark

horrors of his usual preparation for the sleep of an innocent child to

overshadow him. She shut the book and remained for a little time with her face shaded by

her hand. So did the old man, otherwise still unchanged in attitude; so,

probably, did the old woman in her dimmer part of the room. Then the

sick woman was ready for bed. 'Good night, Arthur.

Affery will see to your accommodation. Only touch

me, for my hand is tender.' He touched the worsted muffling of her

hand--that was nothing; if his mother had been sheathed in brass there

would have been no new barrier between them--and followed the old man

and woman down-stairs.

The latter asked him, when they were alone together among the heavy

shadows of the dining-room, would he have some supper? 'No, Affery, no supper.'

'You shall if you like,' said Affery. 'There's her tomorrow's partridge

in the larder--her first this year; say the word and I'll cook it.'

No, he had not long dined, and could eat nothing.

'Have something to drink, then,' said Affery; 'you shall have some of

her bottle of port, if you like. I'll tell Jeremiah that you ordered me

to bring it you.' No; nor would he have that, either. 'It's no reason, Arthur,' said the old woman, bending over him to

whisper, 'that because I am afeared of my life of 'em, you should be.

You've got half the property, haven't you?' 'Yes, yes.'

'Well then, don't you be cowed. You're clever, Arthur, an't you?' He

nodded, as she seemed to expect an answer in the affirmative. 'Then

stand up against them! She's awful clever, and none but a clever one

durst say a word to her. HE'S a clever one--oh, he's a clever one!--and

he gives it her when he has a mind to't, he does!' 'Your husband does?'




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