own numbers of good, persevering, honest people come there
through misfortune. They are almost all kind-hearted to one another.
And it would be ungrateful indeed in me, to forget that I have had many
quiet, comfortable hours there; that I had an excellent friend there
when I was quite a baby, who was very very fond of me; that I have been
taught there, and have worked there, and have slept soundly there. I
think it would be almost cowardly and cruel not to have some little
attachment for it, after all this.'

She had relieved the faithful fulness of her heart, and modestly said,
raising her eyes appealingly to her new friend's, 'I did not mean to say
so much, nor have I ever but once spoken about this before. But it seems
to set it more right than it was last night. I said I wished you had
not followed me, sir. I don't wish it so much now, unless you should
think--indeed I don't wish it at all, unless I should have spoken so
confusedly, that--that you can scarcely understand me, which I am afraid
may be the case.'

He told her with perfect truth that it was not the case; and putting
himself between her and the sharp wind and rain, sheltered her as well
as he could.

'I feel permitted now,' he said, 'to ask you a little more concerning
your father. Has he many creditors?'

'Oh! a great number.'

'I mean detaining creditors, who keep him where he is?'

'Oh yes! a great number.'

'Can you tell me--I can get the information, no doubt, elsewhere, if you
cannot--who is the most influential of them?'

Little Dorrit said, after considering a little, that she used to
hear long ago of Mr Tite Barnacle as a man of great power. He was a
commissioner, or a board, or a trustee, 'or something.' He lived
in Grosvenor Square, she thought, or very near it. He was under
Government--high in the Circumlocution Office. She appeared to have
acquired, in her infancy, some awful impression of the might of this
formidable Mr Tite Barnacle of Grosvenor Square, or very near it, and
the Circumlocution Office, which quite crushed her when she mentioned
him.

'It can do no harm,' thought Arthur, 'if I see this Mr Tite Barnacle.'

The thought did not present itself so quietly but that her quickness
intercepted it. 'Ah!' said Little Dorrit, shaking her head with the mild
despair of a lifetime. 'Many people used to think once of getting my
poor father out, but you don't know how hopeless it is.'

She forgot to be shy at the moment, in hone