looked at him in passing, and both remained standing about.

As there was only one house in the enclosure, there was no room for
uncertainty, so he went up the steps of that house and knocked. There
was a dim light in two windows on the first-floor. The door gave back
a dreary, vacant sound, as though the house were empty; but it was not,
for a light was visible, and a step was audible, almost directly. They
both came to the door, and a chain grated, and a woman with her apron
thrown over her face and head stood in the aperture.

'Who is it?' said the woman.

Mr Dorrit, much amazed by this appearance, replied that he was from
Italy, and that he wished to ask a question relative to the missing
person, whom he knew.

'Hi!' cried the woman, raising a cracked voice. 'Jeremiah!'

Upon this, a dry old man appeared, whom Mr Dorrit thought he identified
by his gaiters, as the rusty screw. The woman was Under apprehensions
of the dry old man, for she whisked her apron away as he approached, and
disclosed a pale affrighted face. 'Open the door, you fool,' said the
old man; 'and let the gentleman in.'

Mr Dorrit, not without a glance over his shoulder towards his driver and
the cabriolet, walked into the dim hall. 'Now, sir,' said Mr Flintwinch,
'you can ask anything here you think proper; there are no secrets here,
sir.'

Before a reply could be made, a strong stern voice, though a woman's,
called from above, 'Who is it?'

'Who is it?' returned Jeremiah. 'More inquiries. A gentleman from
Italy.'

'Bring him up here!'

Mr Flintwinch muttered, as if he deemed that unnecessary; but, turning
to Mr Dorrit, said, 'Mrs Clennam. She will do as she likes. I'll show
you the way.' He then preceded Mr Dorrit up the blackened staircase;
that gentleman, not unnaturally looking behind him on the road, saw the
woman following, with her apron thrown over her head again in her former
ghastly manner.

Mrs Clennam had her books open on her little table. 'Oh!' said she
abruptly, as she eyed her visitor with a steady look. 'You are from
Italy, sir, are you. Well?' Mr Dorrit was at a loss for any more
distinct rejoinder at the moment than 'Ha--well?'

'Where is this missing man? Have you come to give us information where
he is? I hope you have?'

'So far from it, I--hum--have come to seek information.' 'Unfortunately
for us, there is none to be got here. Flintwinch, show the gentleman the
handbill. Give him several to take away. Hold t