rd which she
had described as his place of habitation, was a large house, let off to
various tenants; but Plornish ingeniously hinted that he lived in the
parlour, by means of a painted hand under his name, the forefinger of
which hand (on which the artist had depicted a ring and a most elaborate
nail of the genteelest form) referred all inquirers to that apartment.

Parting from his companions, after arranging another meeting with
Mr Meagles, Clennam went alone into the entry, and knocked with his
knuckles at the parlour-door. It was opened presently by a woman with
a child in her arms, whose unoccupied hand was hastily rearranging the
upper part of her dress. This was Mrs Plornish, and this maternal
action was the action of Mrs Plornish during a large part of her waking
existence.

Was Mr Plornish at home? 'Well, sir,' said Mrs Plornish, a civil woman,
'not to deceive you, he's gone to look for a job.'

'Not to deceive you' was a method of speech with Mrs Plornish. She would
deceive you, under any circumstances, as little as might be; but she had
a trick of answering in this provisional form.

'Do you think he will be back soon, if I wait for him?'

'I have been expecting him,' said Mrs Plornish, 'this half an hour, at
any minute of time. Walk in, sir.' Arthur entered the rather dark and
close parlour (though it was lofty too), and sat down in the chair she
placed for him.

'Not to deceive you, sir, I notice it,' said Mrs Plornish, 'and I take
it kind of you.'

He was at a loss to understand what she meant; and by expressing as much
in his looks, elicited her explanation.

'It ain't many that comes into a poor place, that deems it worth their
while to move their hats,' said Mrs Plornish. 'But people think more of
it than people think.'

Clennam returned, with an uncomfortable feeling in so very slight a
courtesy being unusual, Was that all! And stooping down to pinch the
cheek of another young child who was sitting on the floor, staring at
him, asked Mrs Plornish how old that fine boy was?

'Four year just turned, sir,' said Mrs Plornish. 'He IS a fine little
fellow, ain't he, sir? But this one is rather sickly.' She tenderly
hushed the baby in her arms, as she said it. 'You wouldn't mind my
asking if it happened to be a job as you was come about, sir, would
you?' asked Mrs Plornish wistfully.

She asked it so anxiously, that if he had been in possession of any
kind of tenement, he would have had it plas