It was his last demonstration for that time; as, after shedding some
more tears and querulously complaining that he couldn't breathe, he
slowly fell into a slumber. Clennam had abundant occupation for his
thoughts, as he sat in the quiet room watching the father on his bed,
and the daughter fanning his face. Little Dorrit had been thinking too.
After softly putting his grey hair aside, and touching his forehead with
her lips, she looked towards Arthur, who came nearer to her, and pursued
in a low whisper the subject of her thoughts.
'Mr Clennam, will he pay all his debts before he leaves here?' 'No doubt. All.' 'All the debts for which he had been imprisoned here, all my life and
longer?' 'No doubt.' There was something of uncertainty and remonstrance in her look;
something that was not all satisfaction. He wondered to detect it, and
said: 'You are glad that he should do so?' 'Are you?' asked Little Dorrit, wistfully. 'Am I? Most heartily glad!' 'Then I know I ought to be.' 'And are you not?'
'It seems to me hard,' said Little Dorrit, 'that he should have lost so
many years and suffered so much, and at last pay all the debts as well.
It seems to me hard that he should pay in life and money both.' 'My dear child--' Clennam was beginning. 'Yes, I know I am wrong,' she pleaded timidly, 'don't think any worse of
me; it has grown up with me here.' The prison, which could spoil so many things, had tainted Little
Dorrit's mind no more than this. Engendered as the confusion was, in
compassion for the poor prisoner, her father, it was the first speck
Clennam had ever seen, it was the last speck Clennam ever saw, of the
prison atmosphere upon her.
He thought this, and forebore to say another word. With the thought, her
purity and goodness came before him in their brightest light. The little
spot made them the more beautiful.
Worn out with her own emotions, and yielding to the silence of the room,
her hand slowly slackened and failed in its fanning movement, and her
head dropped down on the pillow at her father's side. Clennam rose
softly, opened and closed the door without a sound, and passed from the
prison, carrying the quiet with him into the turbulent streets.