Vol.1 f.049 recto

[I? fee??d???????? and ???ident] servant ›along. Jeremiah, [l?g?] the captain deserts the ship, but you and I will
sink or float with it.”

Jeremiah [???ld ???] [??se] eyes glistenedwhose eyes glistened as if they saw money, darted a sudden look at [???????? a??f] the son, i??e as if they ??? whilst which seemed to say
[????d] “I [???? ????] no;?? owe owe you no thanks for this[y?]; you have [????], done did nothing [h?e??n??s???] long served towards it!” and then [said?] told
[?]the mother that he thanked her [? it so his ????], and that Affery thanked her with all his heart, and that
he would never desert her, and that Affery would never desert her. Finally, he [t?rned] hauled up his
watch from its depths and sayingsaid Eleven said, “Eleven. [I?? t???] Time for your oysters!” and with that change
of subject, which involved no change of [??i? or in ????] expression or manner, rang the bell.

But Mrs Clennam, resolved to treat herself [ep in ????nt] with great rigor [?????f] the greater rigour for[?h?? that he was on hand a?? ????? making ???? ??]
[for ?????????]having been supposed to be unacquainted with reparation, refused to eat her oysters when they were brought. They looked tempting; eight in number, circularly set out on a white plate on a tray covered with a white napkin, flanked by a slice of buttered French roll, and a little compact glass of cool wine and water; but she resisted all persuasions, and sent them down again—placing the act to her credit, no doubt, in her Eternal Day-Book.

This refection of oysters was not presided over by Affery, but by the girl who had appeared when the bell was rung; the same who had been in the dimly-lighted room last night. Now that he had an opportunity of observing her, Arthur found that her diminutive figure, small features, and slight spare dress, gave her the appearance of being much younger than she was. A woman, probably of not less than two-and-twenty, she might have been passed in the street for little more than half that age. Not that her face was very youthful, for in truth there was more consideration and care in it than naturally belonged to her utmost years; but she was so little and light, so noiseless and shy, and appeared so conscious of being out of place among the three hard elders, that she had all the manner and much of the appearance of a subdued child.

In a hard way, and in an uncertain way that fluctuated between patronage and putting down, the sprinkling from a watering-pot and hydraulic pressure, Mrs Clennam showed an interest in this dependent. [LD Proofs Vol.1 f.055] Even in the moment of her entrance, upon the violent ringing of the bell, when the mother shielded herself with that singular action from the son, Mrs Clennam’s eyes had had some individual recognition in them, which seemed reserved for her. As there are degrees of hardness in the hardest metal, and shades of colour in black itself, so, even in the asperity of Mrs Clennam’s demeanour towards all the rest of humanity and towards Little Dorrit, there was a fine gradation.

Little Dorrit let herself out to do needlework. At so much a day—or at so little—from eight to eight, Little Dorrit was to be hired. Punctual to the moment, Little Dorrit appeared; punctual to the moment, Little Dorrit vanished. What became of Little Dorrit between the two eights was a mystery.

Another of the moral phenomena of Little Dorrit. Besides her consideration money, her daily contract included meals. She had an extraordinary repugnance to dining in company; would never do so, if it were possible to escape. Would always plead that she had this bit of work to begin first, or that bit of work to finish first; and would, of a certainty, scheme and plan—not very cunningly, it would seem, for she deceived no one—to dine alone. Successful in this, happy in carrying off her plate anywhere, to make a