Clennam of the way in which he would make the subject revolve if it were
pursued, never showing any new part of it nor allowing it to make the
smallest advance, that it did much to help to convince him of his labour
having been in vain. He might have taken any time to think about it, for
Mr Casby, well accustomed to get on anywhere by leaving everything to
his bumps and his white hair, knew his strength to lie in silence. So
there Casby sat, twirling and twirling, and making his polished head and
forehead look largely benevolent in every knob.

With this spectacle before him, Arthur had risen to go, when from the
inner Dock where the good ship Pancks was hove down when out in no
cruising ground, the noise was heard of that steamer labouring towards
him. It struck Arthur that the noise began demonstratively far off, as
though Mr Pancks sought to impress on any one who might happen to think
about it, that he was working on from out of hearing. Mr Pancks and
he shook hands, and the former brought his employer a letter or two to
sign. Mr Pancks in shaking hands merely scratched his eyebrow with his
left forefinger and snorted once, but Clennam, who understood him better
now than of old, comprehended that he had almost done for the evening
and wished to say a word to him outside. Therefore, when he had taken
his leave of Mr Casby, and (which was a more difficult process) of
Flora, he sauntered in the neighbourhood on Mr Pancks's line of road.

He had waited but a short time when Mr Pancks appeared. Mr Pancks
shaking hands again with another expressive snort, and taking off his
hat to put his hair up, Arthur thought he received his cue to speak to
him as one who knew pretty well what had just now passed. Therefore he
said, without any preface:

'I suppose they were really gone, Pancks?'

'Yes,' replied Pancks. 'They were really gone.'

'Does he know where to find that lady?'

'Can't say. I should think so.'

Mr Pancks did not? No, Mr Pancks did not. Did Mr Pancks know anything
about her? 'I expect,' rejoined that worthy, 'I know as much about
her as she knows about herself. She is somebody's child--anybody's,
nobody's.

Put her in a room in London here with any six people old enough to be
her parents, and her parents may be there for anything she knows. They
may be in any house she sees, they may be in any churchyard she passes,
she may run against 'em in any street, she may make chance acquaintance
of 'em at any ti