she still spoke aloud, when she demanded:--

'Who told you so?'

'A man who was his fellow-prisoner.'

'That man's antecedents, I suppose, were not known to you, before he
told you?'

'No.'

'Though the man himself was?'

'Yes.'

'My case and Flintwinch's, in respect of this other man! I dare say the
resemblance is not so exact, though, as that your informant became known
to you through a letter from a correspondent with whom he had deposited
money? How does that part of the parallel stand?'

Arthur had no choice but to say that his informant had not become known
to him through the agency of any such credentials, or indeed of any
credentials at all. Mrs Clennam's attentive frown expanded by degrees
into a severe look of triumph, and she retorted with emphasis, 'Take
care how you judge others, then. I say to you, Arthur, for your good,
take care how you judge!' Her emphasis had been derived from her eyes
quite as much as from the stress she laid upon her words. She continued
to look at him; and if, when he entered the house, he had had any latent
hope of prevailing in the least with her, she now looked it out of his
heart.

'Mother, shall I do nothing to assist you?'

'Nothing.'

'Will you entrust me with no confidence, no charge, no explanation?

Will you take no counsel with me? Will you not let me come near you?'

'How can you ask me? You separated yourself from my affairs. It was not
my act; it was yours. How can you consistently ask me such a question?
You know that you left me to Flintwinch, and that he occupies your
place.'

Glancing at Jeremiah, Clennam saw in his very gaiters that his attention
was closely directed to them, though he stood leaning against the wall
scraping his jaw, and pretended to listen to Flora as she held forth in
a most distracting manner on a chaos of subjects, in which mackerel, and
Mr F.'s Aunt in a swing, had become entangled with cockchafers and the
wine trade.

'A prisoner, in a French gaol, on an accusation of murder,' repeated
Mrs Clennam, steadily going over what her son had said. 'That is all you
know of him from the fellow-prisoner?'

'In substance, all.'

'And was the fellow-prisoner his accomplice and a murderer, too? But, of
course, he gives a better account of himself than of his friend; it is
needless to ask. This will supply the rest of them here with something
new to talk about. Casby, Arthur tells me--'

'Stay, mother! Stay, stay!' He interrupted