cannot do without it, let me ask you for it.'

'I Will,--I Will.'

'Don't encourage him to ask. Don't understand him if he does ask. Don't
give it to him. Save him and spare him that, and you will be able to
think better of him!'

Clennam said--not very plainly, seeing those tears glistening in her
anxious eyes--that her wish should be sacred with him.

'You don't know what he is,' she said; 'you don't know what he really
is. How can you, seeing him there all at once, dear love, and not
gradually, as I have done! You have been so good to us, so delicately
and truly good, that I want him to be better in your eyes than in
anybody's. And I cannot bear to think,' cried Little Dorrit, covering
her tears with her hands, 'I cannot bear to think that you of all the
world should see him in his only moments of degradation.'

'Pray,' said Clennam, 'do not be so distressed. Pray, pray, Little
Dorrit! This is quite understood now.'

'Thank you, sir. Thank you! I have tried very much to keep myself from
saying this; I have thought about it, days and nights; but when I knew
for certain you were coming again, I made up my mind to speak to you.
Not because I am ashamed of him,' she dried her tears quickly, 'but
because I know him better than any one does, and love him, and am proud
of him.'

Relieved of this weight, Little Dorrit was nervously anxious to be gone.
Maggy being broad awake, and in the act of distantly gloating over the
fruit and cakes with chuckles of anticipation, Clennam made the best
diversion in his power by pouring her out a glass of wine, which she
drank in a series of loud smacks; putting her hand upon her windpipe
after every one, and saying, breathless, with her eyes in a prominent
state, 'Oh, ain't it d'licious! Ain't it hospitally!' When she had
finished the wine and these encomiums, he charged her to load her basket
(she was never without her basket) with every eatable thing upon the
table, and to take especial care to leave no scrap behind. Maggy's
pleasure in doing this and her little mother's pleasure in seeing Maggy
pleased, was as good a turn as circumstances could have given to the
late conversation.

'But the gates will have been locked long ago,' said Clennam, suddenly
remembering it. 'Where are you going?'

'I am going to Maggy's lodging,' answered Little Dorrit. 'I shall be
quite safe, quite well taken care of.'

'I must accompany you there,' said Clennam, 'I cannot let you go alone.'