sleepy calmness。
'Mother； I have heard something to…day which I feel persuaded you don't
know； and which I think you should know； of the antecedents of that man
I saw here。'
'I know nothing of the antecedents of the man you saw here； Arthur。'
She spoke aloud。 He had lowered his own voice； but she rejected that
advance towards confidence as she rejected every other； and spoke in her
usual key and in her usual stern voice。
'I have received it on no circuitous information； it has e to me
direct。' She asked him； exactly as before； if he were there to tell her
what it was？
'I thought it right that you should know it。'
'And what is it？'
'He has been a prisoner in a French gaol。'
She answered with posure； 'I should think that very likely。'
'But in a gaol for criminals； mother。 On an accusation of murder。'
She started at the word； and her looks expressed her natural horror。 Yet
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 bee 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 e 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 bee 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 acplice 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 her hastily； for it had not
entered his imagination that she would openly proclaim what he had told
her。
'What now？' she said with displeasure。 'What more？'
'I beg you to excuse me； Mr Casby……and you； too； Mrs Finching……for one
other moment with my mother……'
He had laid his hand upon her chair； or she would otherwise have wheeled
it round with the touch of her foot upon the ground。 They were still
face to face。 She looked at him； as he ran over the possibilities of
some result he had not intended； and could not foresee； being influenced
by Cavalletto's disclosure being a matter of notoriety； and hurriedly
arrived at the conclusion that it had best not be talked about； though
perhaps he was guided by no more distinct reason than that he had taken
it for granted that his mother would reserve it to herself and her
partner。
'What now？' she said again； impatiently。 'What is it？'
'I did not mean； mother； that you should repeat what I have
municated。 I think you had better not repeat it。'
'Do you make that a condition with me？'
'Well！ Yes。'
'Observe； then！ It is you who make this a secret；' said she； holding
up her hand； 'and not I。 It is you； Arthur； who bring here doubts and
suspicions and entreaties for explanations； and it is you； Arthur； who
bring secrets here。 What is it to me； do you think； where the man has
been； or what he has been？ What can it be to me？ The whole world may
know it； if they care to know it； it is nothing to me。 Now； let me go。'
He yielded to her imperious but elated look； and turned her chair back
to the place from which he had wheeled it。 In doing so he saw elation
in the face of Mr Flintwinch； which most assuredly was not inspired by
Flora。 This turning of his intelligence and of his whole attempt and
design against himself； did even more than his mother's fixedness and
firmness to convince him that his efforts with her were idle。 Nothing
remained but the appeal to his old friend Affery。
But even to get the very doubtful and preliminary stage of making the
appeal； seemed one of the least promising of human undertakings。 She
was so pletely under the thrall of the two clever ones； was so
systematically kept in sight by one or other of them； and was so afraid
to go about the house besides； that every opportunity of speaking to her
alone appeared to be forestalled。 Over and above that； Mistress Affery；
by some means （it was not very difficult to guess； through the sharp
arguments of her liege lord）； had acquired such a lively conviction
of the hazard of saying anything under any circumstances； that she had
remained all this time in a corner guarding herself from approach with
that symbolical instrument of hers； so that； when a word or two had
been addressed to her by Flora； or even by the bottle…green patriarch
himself； she had warded off conversation with the toasting…fork like a
dumb woman。
After several abortive attempts to get Affery to look at him while
she cleared the table and washed the tea…service； Arthur thought of an
expedient which Flora might originate。 To whom he therefore whispered；
'Could you say you would like to go through the house？'
Now； poor Flora； being always in fluctuating expectation of the time
when Clennam would renew his boyhood and be madly in love with her
again； received the whisper with the utmost delight； not only as
rendered precious by its mysterious character； but as preparing the
way for a tender interview in which he would declare the state of his
affections。 She immediately began to work out the hint。
'Ah dear me the poor old room；' said Flora； glancing round； 'looks just
as ever Mrs Clennam I am touched to see except for being smokier which
was to be expected with time and which we must all expect and reconcile
ourselves to being whether we like i