constraint was greatly increased by Mr Pancks。 The demeanour of that
gentleman at first suggested to her mind that he might be a taker of
likenesses； so intently did he look at her； and so frequently did he
glance at the little note…book by his side。 Observing that he made no
sketch； however； and that he talked about business only； she began to
have suspicions that he represented some creditor of her father's； the
balance due to whom was noted in that pocket volume。 Regarded from this
point of view Mr Pancks's puffings expressed injury and impatience； and
each of his louder snorts became a demand for payment。
But here again she was undeceived by anomalous and incongruous conduct
on the part of Mr Pancks himself。 She had left the table half an hour；
and was at work alone。 Flora had 'gone to lie down' in the next room；
concurrently with which retirement a smell of something to drink
had broken out in the house。 The Patriarch was fast asleep； with his
philanthropic mouth open under a yellow pocket…handkerchief in the
dining…room。 At this quiet time； Mr Pancks softly appeared before her；
urbanely nodding。
'Find it a little dull； Miss Dorrit？' inquired Pancks in a low voice。
'No； thank you； sir；' said Little Dorrit。
'Busy； I see；' observed Mr Pancks； stealing into the room by inches。
'What are those now； Miss Dorrit？'
'Handkerchiefs。'
'Are they； though！' said Pancks。 'I shouldn't have thought it。' Not in
the least looking at them； but looking at Little Dorrit。 'Perhaps you
wonder who I am。 Shall I tell you？ I am a fortune…teller。'
Little Dorrit now began to think he was mad。
'I belong body and soul to my proprietor；' said Pancks； 'you saw my
proprietor having his dinner below。 But I do a little in the other way；
sometimes； privately； very privately； Miss Dorrit。'
Little Dorrit looked at him doubtfully； and not without alarm。
'I wish you'd show me the palm of your hand；' said Pancks。 'I should
like to have a look at it。 Don't let me be troublesome。' He was so far
troublesome that he was not at all wanted there； but she laid her work
in her lap for a moment； and held out her left hand with her thimble on
it。
'Years of toil； eh？' said Pancks； softly； touching it with his blunt
forefinger。 'But what else are we made for？ Nothing。 Hallo！' looking
into the lines。 'What's this with bars？ It's a College！ And what's this
with a grey gown and a black velvet cap？ it's a father！ And what's this
with a clario？ It's an uncle！ And what's this in dancing…shoes？ It's
a sister！ And what's this straggling about in an idle sort of a way？
It's a brother！ And what's this thinking for 'em all？ Why； this is you；
Miss Dorrit！' Her eyes met his as she looked up wonderingly into his
face； and she thought that although his were sharp eyes； he was a
brighter and gentler…looking man than she had supposed at dinner。 His
eyes were on her hand again directly； and her opportunity of confirming
or correcting the impression was gone。
'Now； the deuce is in it；' muttered Pancks； tracing out a line in her
hand with his clumsy finger； 'if this isn't me in the corner here！ What
do I want here？ What's behind me？'
He carried his finger slowly down to the wrist； and round the wrist； and
affected to look at the back of the hand for what was behind him。
'Is it any harm？' asked Little Dorrit； smiling。
'Deuce a bit！' said Pancks。 'What do you think it's worth？'
'I ought to ask you that。 I am not the fortune…teller。'
'True；' said Pancks。 'What's it worth？ You shall live to see； Miss
Dorrit。'
Releasing the hand by slow degrees； he drew all his fingers through his
prongs of hair； so that they stood up in their most portentous manner；
and repeated slowly； 'Remember what I say； Miss Dorrit。 You shall live
to see。'
She could not help showing that she was much surprised； if it were only
by his knowing so much about her。
'Ah！ That's it！' said Pancks； pointing at her。 'Miss Dorrit； not that；
ever！'
More surprised than before； and a little more frightened； she looked to
him for an explanation of his last words。
'Not that；' said Pancks； making； with great seriousness； an imitation
of a surprised look and manner that appeared to be unintentionally
grotesque。 'Don't do that。 Never on seeing me； no matter when； no matter
where。 I am nobody。 Don't take on to mind me。 Don't mention me。 Take no
notice。 Will you agree； Miss Dorrit？'
'I hardly know what to say；' returned Little Dorrit； quite astounded。
'Why？'
'Because I am a fortune…teller。 Pancks the gipsy。 I haven't told you so
much of your fortune yet； Miss Dorrit； as to tell you what's behind
me on that little hand。 I have told you you shall live to see。 Is it
agreed； Miss Dorrit？'
'Agreed that I……am……to……'
'To take no notice of me away from here； unless I take on first。 Not
to mind me when I e and go。 It's very easy。 I am no loss； I am not
handsome； I am not good pany； I am only my proprietors grubber。
You need do no more than think； 〃Ah！ Pancks the gipsy at his
fortune…telling……he'll tell the rest of my fortune one day……I shall live
to know it。〃 Is it agreed； Miss Dorrit？'
'Ye…es；' faltered Little Dorrit； whom he greatly confused； 'I suppose
so； while you do no harm。'
'Good！' Mr Pancks glanced at the wall of the adjoining room； and stooped
forward。 'Honest creature； woman of capital points； but heedless and
a loose talker； Miss Dorrit。' With that he rubbed his hands as if the
interview had been very satisfactory to him； panted away to the door；
and urbanely nodded himself out again。
If Little Dorrit were beyond measure perplexed by this curious conduct
on the part of her new acquaintance； and by finding herself involved
in this singular treaty； her perplexity was not diminished by ensuing
circumstances。 Besides that Mr Pancks took every opportunity afforded
him in Mr Casby's house of significantly glancing at her and snorting
at her……which was not much； after what he had done already……he began to
pervade her daily life。 She saw him in the street； constantly。 When she
went to Mr Casby's； he was always there。 When she went to Mrs Clennam's；
he came there on any pretence； as if to keep her in his sight。 A week
had not gone by； when she found him to her astonishment in the Lodge one
night； conversing with the turnkey on duty； and to all appearance one
of his familiar panions。 Her next surprise was to find him equally at
his ease within the prison； to hear of his presenting himself among
the visitors at her father's Sunday levee； to see him arm in arm with
a Collegiate friend about the yard； to learn； from Fame； that he had
greatly distinguished himself one evening at the social club that held
its meetings in the Snuggery； by addressing a speech to the members
of the institution； singing a song； and treating the pany to five
gallons of ale……report madly added a bushel of shrimps。 The effect on
Mr Plornish of such of these phenomena as he became an eye…witness of in
his faithful visits； made an impression on Little Dorrit only second to
that produced by the phenomena themselves。 They seemed to gag and bind
him。 He could only stare； and sometimes weakly mutter that it wouldn't
be believed down Bleeding Heart Yard that this was Pancks； but he never
said a word more； or made a sign more； even to Little Dorrit。
Mr Pancks crowned his mysteries by making himself acquainted with Tip
in some unknown manner； and taking a Sunday saunter into the College
on that gentleman's arm。 Throughout he never took any notice of Little
Dorrit； save once or twice when he happened to e close to her and
there was no one very near； on which occasions； he said in passing；
with a friendly look and a puff of encouragement； 'Pancks the
gipsy……fortune…telling。'
Little Dorrit worked and strove as usual； wondering at all this； but
keeping her wonder； as she had from her earliest years kept many heavier
loads； in her own breast。 A change had stolen； and was stealing yet；
over the patient heart。 Every day found her something more retiring
than the day before。 To pass in and out of the prison unnoticed； and
elsewhere to be overlooked and forgotten； were； for herself； her chief
desires。
To her own room too； strangely assorted room for her delicate youth
and character； she was glad to retreat as often as she could without
desertion of any duty。 There were afternoon times when she was
unemployed； when visitors dropped in to play a hand at cards with her
father； when she could be spared and was better away。 Then she would
flit along the yard； climb the scores of stairs that led to her room；
and take her seat at the window。 Many binations did those spikes
upon the wall assume； many light shapes did the strong iron weave itself
into； many golden touches fell upon the rust； while Little Dorrit sat
there musing。 New zig…zags sprung into the cruel pattern sometimes； when
she saw it through a burst of tears； but beautified or hardened still；
always over it and under it and through it； she was fain to look in her
solitude； seeing everything with that ineffaceable brand。
A garret； and a Marshalsea garret without promise； was Little
Dorrit's room。 Beautifully kept； it was ugly in itself； and had little
but cleanliness and air to set it off； for what embellishment she had
ever been able to buy； had gone to her father's room。 Howbeit； for this
poor place she showed an increasing love； and to sit in it alone became
her favourite rest。
Insomuch； that on a certain afternoon during the Pancks mysteries； when
she was seated at her window； and heard Maggy's well…known step ing
up the stairs； she was very much disturbed by the apprehension of being
summoned away。 As Maggy's step came higher up and nearer； she trembled
and faltered； and it was as much as she could do to speak； when Maggy at
length appeared。
'Please； Little Mother；' said Maggy； panting for breath； 'you must e
down and see him。 He's here。'
'Who； Maggy？'
'Who； o' course Mr Clennam。 He's in your father's room； and he says to
me； Maggy； will you be so kind and go and say it's only me。'
'I am not very well； Maggy。 I had better not go。 I am going to lie down。
See！ I lie down now； to ease my head。 Say； with my grateful regard； th