Both times I thought (though that may easily be my
mistake), that he hardly looked as if he had met me by accident.' 'Did
he say anything?'

'No; he only nodded and put his head on one side.'

'The devil take his head!' mused Clennam, still looking at the fire;
'it's always on one side.' He roused himself to persuade her to put some
wine to her lips, and to touch something to eat--it was very difficult,
she was so timid and shy--and then said, musing again: 'Is my mother at
all changed to you?'

'Oh, not at all. She is just the same. I wondered whether I had better
tell her my history. I wondered whether I might--I mean, whether you
would like me to tell her. I wondered,' said Little Dorrit, looking at
him in a suppliant way, and gradually withdrawing her eyes as he looked
at her, 'whether you would advise me what I ought to do.'

'Little Dorrit,' said Clennam; and the phrase had already begun, between
these two, to stand for a hundred gentle phrases, according to the
varying tone and connection in which it was used; 'do nothing. I will
have some talk with my old friend, Mrs Affery. Do nothing, Little
Dorrit--except refresh yourself with such means as there are here. I
entreat you to do that.'

'Thank you, I am not hungry. Nor,' said Little Dorrit, as he softly
put her glass towards her, 'nor thirsty.--I think Maggy might like
something, perhaps.'

'We will make her find pockets presently for all there is here,' said
Clennam: 'but before we awake her, there was a third thing to say.'

'Yes. You will not be offended, sir?'

'I promise that, unreservedly.'

'It will sound strange. I hardly know how to say it. Don't think it
unreasonable or ungrateful in me,' said Little Dorrit, with returning
and increasing agitation.

'No, no, no. I am sure it will be natural and right. I am not afraid
that I shall put a wrong construction on it, whatever it is.'

'Thank you. You are coming back to see my father again?'

'Yes.'

'You have been so good and thoughtful as to write him a note, saying
that you are coming to-morrow?'

'Oh, that was nothing! Yes.'

'Can you guess,' said Little Dorrit, folding her small hands tight in
one another, and looking at him with all the earnestness of her soul
looking steadily out of her eyes, 'what I am going to ask you not to
do?'

'I think I can. But I may be wrong.' 'No, you are not wrong,' said
Little Dorrit, shaking her head. 'If we should want it so very, very
badly that we