ortunes like people of sense, and that we both foresaw
that whenever we encountered one another again we should meet as the
best friends on earth. So he said, and I did not contradict him.

It was not very long before I found that he was courting his present
wife, and that she had been taken away to be out of his reach. I hated
her then, quite as much as I hate her now; and naturally, therefore,
could desire nothing better than that she should marry him. But I was
restlessly curious to look at her--so curious that I felt it to be one
of the few sources of entertainment left to me. I travelled a little:
travelled until I found myself in her society, and in yours. Your dear
friend, I think, was not known to you then, and had not given you any of
those signal marks of his friendship which he has bestowed upon you.

In that company I found a girl, in various circumstances of whose
position there was a singular likeness to my own, and in whose character
I was interested and pleased to see much of the rising against swollen
patronage and selfishness, calling themselves kindness, protection,
benevolence, and other fine names, which I have described as inherent in
my nature. I often heard it said, too, that she had 'an unhappy temper.'
Well understanding what was meant by the convenient phrase, and wanting
a companion with a knowledge of what I knew, I thought I would try to
release the girl from her bondage and sense of injustice. I have no
occasion to relate that I succeeded.

We have been together ever since, sharing my small means.

CHAPTER 22. Who passes by this Road so late?

Arthur Clennam had made his unavailing expedition to Calais in the midst
of a great pressure of business. A certain barbaric Power with valuable
possessions on the map of the world, had occasion for the services of
one or two engineers, quick in invention and determined in execution:
practical men, who could make the men and means their ingenuity
perceived to be wanted out of the best materials they could find
at hand; and who were as bold and fertile in the adaptation of such
materials to their purpose, as in the conception of their purpose
itself. This Power, being a barbaric one, had no idea of stowing away
a great national object in a Circumlocution Office, as strong wine is
hidden from the light in a cellar until its fire and youth are gone,
and the labourers who worked in the vineyard and pressed the grapes are
dust. With characteri