of.'

'Pray,' she returned, motioning him to a chair so coldly that he
remained standing, 'what name was it that you gave?'

'I mentioned the name of Blandois.'

'Blandois?'

'A name you are acquainted with.'

'It is strange,' she said, frowning, 'that you should still press an
undesired interest in me and my acquaintances, in me and my affairs, Mr
Clennam. I don't know what you mean.'

'Pardon me. You know the name?'

'What can you have to do with the name? What can I have to do with the
name? What can you have to do with my knowing or not knowing any name?
I know many names and I have forgotten many more. This may be in the
one class, or it may be in the other, or I may never have heard it. I am
acquainted with no reason for examining myself, or for being examined,
about it.'

'If you will allow me,' said Clennam, 'I will tell you my reason for
pressing the subject. I admit that I do press it, and I must beg you to
forgive me if I do so, very earnestly. The reason is all mine, I do not
insinuate that it is in any way yours.'

'Well, sir,' she returned, repeating a little less haughtily than before
her former invitation to him to be seated: to which he now deferred, as
she seated herself. 'I am at least glad to know that this is not another
bondswoman of some friend of yours, who is bereft of free choice, and
whom I have spirited away. I will hear your reason, if you please.'

'First, to identify the person of whom we speak,' said Clennam, 'let me
observe that it is the person you met in London some time back. You will
remember meeting him near the river--in the Adelphi!'

'You mix yourself most unaccountably with my business,' she replied,
looking full at him with stern displeasure. 'How do you know that?'

'I entreat you not to take it ill. By mere accident.' 'What accident?'

'Solely the accident of coming upon you in the street and seeing the
meeting.'

'Do you speak of yourself, or of some one else?'

'Of myself. I saw it.'

'To be sure it was in the open street,' she observed, after a few
moments of less and less angry reflection. 'Fifty people might have seen
it. It would have signified nothing if they had.'

'Nor do I make my having seen it of any moment, nor (otherwise than as
an explanation of my coming here) do I connect my visit with it or the
favour that I have to ask.'

'Oh! You have to ask a favour! It occurred to me,' and the handsome face
looked bitterly at him, 'that your manner