'Let me put you in a coach,' said Clennam, very nearly adding 'my poor
child.'

She hurriedly declined, saying that wet or dry made little difference to
her; she was used to go about in all weathers. He knew it to be so, and
was touched with more pity; thinking of the slight figure at his side,
making its nightly way through the damp dark boisterous streets to such
a place of rest. 'You spoke so feelingly to me last night, sir, and
I found afterwards that you had been so generous to my father, that I
could not resist your message, if it was only to thank you; especially
as I wished very much to say to you--' she hesitated and trembled, and
tears rose in her eyes, but did not fall.

'To say to me--?'

'That I hope you will not misunderstand my father. Don't judge him, sir,
as you would judge others outside the gates. He has been there so long!
I never saw him outside, but I can understand that he must have grown
different in some things since.'

'My thoughts will never be unjust or harsh towards him, believe me.'

'Not,' she said, with a prouder air, as the misgiving evidently crept
upon her that she might seem to be abandoning him, 'not that he has
anything to be ashamed of for himself, or that I have anything to be
ashamed of for him. He only requires to be understood. I only ask for
him that his life may be fairly remembered. All that he said was quite
true. It all happened just as he related it. He is very much respected.
Everybody who comes in, is glad to know him. He is more courted than
anyone else. He is far more thought of than the Marshal is.'

If ever pride were innocent, it was innocent in Little Dorrit when she
grew boastful of her father.

'It is often said that his manners are a true gentleman's, and quite
a study. I see none like them in that place, but he is admitted to
be superior to all the rest. This is quite as much why they make him
presents, as because they know him to be needy. He is not to be blamed
for being in need, poor love. Who could be in prison a quarter of a
century, and be prosperous!'

What affection in her words, what compassion in her repressed tears,
what a great soul of fidelity within her, how true the light that shed
false brightness round him!

'If I have found it best to conceal where my home is, it is not because
I am ashamed of him. God forbid! Nor am I so much ashamed of the place
itself as might be supposed. People are not bad because they come there.
I have kn